Original Days 2
by NaylorFan90
Summary: Four years after Fisk and Jason save D.C. from Mr. White's wrath, the world is worse than ever. War and terror threaten everything they fight for. As a new organization comes to power, the company discovers that the greatest threat may come from within.
1. Reintroduction

Disclaimer: I do not own Better Days or Original Life, nor do I own any of the characters from them. I do, however, own this whole plot and all characters not from the previously named webcomics. A big thanks to Brian Whitfield for being my reviser. Although I think I prefer the word editor, so I'll call him that from now on.

"_Italics"_ are used for thoughts, recording, and non-English languages.

Original Days 2

Chapter One: Re-introduction

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_Time: 2118 hours_

_Location: Hong Kong_

"_Hong Kong, one of the world's leading financial centers; known as one of the Four Asian Tigers for its exceptionally high growth rates and advanced economy. Ranked as having the freest capitalist economy in the world. More than 7 million people call it home, and right now something is happening in it that if not stopped could mean the deaths of millions. But it will be stopped, because that is why we're here. My name is Fisk Black, leader of an elite team designated to find and recover all technology developed by a Cat called Mr. White. For four years we have performed our mission, and now we may have just found the mother-lode."_

Pressing stop on the recorder, Fisk placed it back into the glove compartment of the van he was driving. Pulling the van over and shutting off the engine, he quickly climbed out of the driver's seat and moved to one situated in front of a laptop in the cargo area. Typing in some commands, he slipped on a headset and spoke.

"Jason, confirm that you are in position and ready to proceed, over."

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A tall Cat in a black duster paused outside the entrance to the Four Seasons Hong Kong and held his hand to the responder positioned in his ear, activating it. "Affirmative, Fisk, I'm in position. What's the status on the others?" Fisk typed in a prompt into the computer, waited a moment, and then spoke. "Angela, Ana, what are your statuses, over?"

Atop the luxury hotel crouched an albino Bat in a non-reflective black outfit, in the process of rigging up a cable. Pausing, she activated her own responder. "Angela here, I'm in position. Just need the room number and I will be ready to proceed, over."

Fisk waited for another reply for a moment, and then asked "Ana? Respond if you are in position, over." Silence, and then "Why am I even in the field? I'm a hacker, not a fighter!" Fisk sighed in frustration, but was saved the trouble of responding by Jason. "You're in the field because your trainer, me, wants you to get some experience in. Now shut it before I go over there and shut it for you!" Grudgingly, Ana Lucia Rodriguez replied that she was in position at the back entrance, and would wait for further orders. A recent addition to the ranks of the company, she was a Dog of medium height, with golden-yellow fur and short blond hair. Sitting down on a nearby trashcan, she muttered to herself as she watched the door "How would I even **get** experience in an empty alleyway?"

Fisk ignored the mumbling coming over the still on headset, and turned his attention back to Jason. "Positions acknowledged, and mission is a go. Be careful Jason, and be discreet." Grinning in a way that scared all passerby, Jason replied "discreet as I ever am" and then went in.

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The Four Seasons Hong Kong was one of the top luxury hotels in all of Hong Kong, and it showed in every inch of the lobby. High-end televisions set to different channels, clean and comfortable furniture, and elegant flowers were arranged through-out it. Jason paid little attention to any of this as he made his way to the check-in counter.

Stopping in front of the Cat receptionist, he loudly cleared his throat to get her attention. _"Hello ma'am, would you mind telling me what room a Mr. Ala Al-Din is in?"_ Ala Al-Din, cover-name of Salih Mansour Mohsin Alfiraidi Alharbi, wanted Saudi terrorist. For eight months they had tracked him, and now that he had led them to a whole **gathering** of the bastards, it was time to move.

While Jason thought all of this, the receptionist had been looking up the name on the hotel computer. Finally she turned back to him and said _"I'm sorry sir, but there is no one here by that name. Would you like a room for yourself?"_ He looked at her for a moment, and then replied _"No thank you, I guess I just got the wrong hotel. Sorry for the trouble."_ He turned and started to walk away, but after a few steps turned back and said _"By the way, the mirrored ceiling is really cool!"_ Without giving her a chance to respond he started walking again.

A second later Fisk's voice came over the channel. "She was lying, which means she knows something."

"I'm aware of that" Jason said, stopping and ducking behind a nearby pillar. Looking around it, he watched as the receptionist cast one last look at where she had seen him disappear into the crowd, before grabbing the phone and making a call. _"Gotcha"_ Jason smirked as he instantly memorized the number, before copying it into the PDA he had taken out of his pocket. Most people wouldn't have been able to make out what she had dialed from the distance between them, but Jason had a unique advantage. _"Damn I love these eyes sometimes."_

"Fisk, I'm sending you a number she just called. What room does it belong too?"

"Give me a moment, this is delicate work."

"It wouldn't be delicate if **I** was there working on it!"

"Quiet, Anna. Okay Jason, I have it. She called a room located on the 29th floor; I'll send you and Angela the room number when you're up there." Jason responded in the affirmative, and then began making his way discreetly to the elevators.

Back up on the roof, Angela finished setting up her rigging. Many aspects of her life had changed over the years, ever since that fateful night at the karaoke bar. After the birth of her son, Constantine, she had taken several months off to recover, before requesting a safer position. Happy to oblige, Ryan reassigned her to being their full-time medic, taking Derek Church as his new bodyguard. She was still available for skill-specific missions however, such as the one she was on at the moment. She had also moved out of her ex-boyfriend's apartment and into a penthouse in Bethesda, Maryland, payed for by Jason Black. Jason; there was something else that had changed in her life-

"Angela, come in Angela, are you there?" Fisk's voice over the radio startled her out of her wandering thoughts. "Sorry sir, just double-checking everything." To illustrate her point she unclasped then clasped one of her supports. "Acknowledged; proceed with operation."

"Copy that." Strapping on her harness, she grabbed her Daewoo K7 submachine gun and turned to face the edge of the roof. And then she began running at it. _"And this is why I'm on this mission."_ Reaching the edge, she leaned forward with all her weight, and suddenly she was running **down** the building, SWAT-quality rope the only thing connecting her to the building.

"_Damn I love this part; too bad the faster the shorter." _Counting down the floors, she quickly neared the target room. Slowing down, she pushed herself away from the wall. Once in mid-air she spread her arms out and twisted her body; maneuvering with her arm-wings, she turned to where she was facing the building and came to rest on the window-ledge directly above the target room. Activating her radio, she contacted the other half of this assault. "Jason dear, please tell me you're in position."

"Almost there." As if to prove this the elevator transporting Jason chimed, showing it had reached its destination. Before the doors had a chance to open his hand shot forward and hit the stop button, leaving him unrevealed to anyone in the hall beyond for the moment. "In position Angela, do your thing.

"Roger." Coughing once to clear her throat, Angela opened her mouth as wide as it could go, letting loose a volley of high-pitched sounds at the hotel room below her. A second went by, and then suddenly she flinched and grunted at the feedback. "19 targets, concentrated in the main meeting area. I'm right on top of them." So focused was she on Jason, she didn't notice the strange pinging noise in her ears.

Jason's eyes widened. "Crap, we haven't seen a gathering this big since Peru!" His frown morphed into a grin. "So let's get down to business." With that he stopped pressing the button and reaching down pulled from his hip holsters a pair of Mateba AutoRevolvers. The doors opened, and Jason took off down the hallway.

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Kicking off once more, Angela dropped down to where she was level with the window of the hotel room. With a sweep of her arm bullets tore through the width of the target room. the affect was immediate; five dropped like flies as the rest dove for cover, pulling out whatever weapons they had. Continuing to fire, she hit three more through their flimsy cover.

**Click**

"_Uh oh." _Letting the gun hang from her side, she quickly kicked off and began running along the side of the building, narrowly avoiding the rain of bullets that responded to her empty clip. Once she was out of the way, she quickly ejected the spent clip, slammed in a new one, and let momentum swing her back into position. In the quick moment she was by the window she took down two more, before momentum carried her past it.

Maneuvering in mid-air, she once more received the pinging sound, only this time she recognized it. _"Echolocation, crap!"_ Looking at the window, what she saw made her blood run cold; another Bat, in a formfitting armored suit and helmet. The only skin that could be seen was on his bare arms. _"Copperhead."_ She activated her radio.

"Jason, I'm going to be busy for a bit, finish the rest off." Without waiting for a reply she turned it off, unbuckled her harness, and with just her momentum carrying her landed on the window ledge. After taking a couple last shots at the backs of the fleeing terrorists, Angela drew her combat knife and charged at her new opponent. Faster than the eye could see he drew from his back sheath a Katana, slashing horizontally at her head in a wide swing. Ducking under it, she brought her knife in an upwards swing to slash his head, only to be blocked at the last moment. _"This isn't going to be fun."_

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While all of this had been going on, Jason had ambushed the fleeing targets in the hallway. Opening fire, he quickly cut their number in half by the time they realized what was happening. After that they began firing back as they ran, making Jason take cover around a corner. _"Heh, so they can fight back." _Dropping the smoking guns, Jason flicked his wrists, and new 12-inch blades sprang into place. Grinning like a madman, Jason launched himself out of cover and at the shooters. Ignoring the bullets grazing him, he swung down and sliced clean through one person's leg while with the other blade stabbing into another's chest. Spinning around, he headbutted a third, before hacking both arms off.

He turned to the last two, who seemed to be frozen in terror. Recognizing one as Alharbi, Jason slowly cracked the joints in his neck, before looking back at them. "Boo." And at that they ran, Jason picking his guns back up before taking off after them.

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Side-stepping a vertical slash, Angela jumped and brought her knife down in a hammerfist strike. Copperhead rolled out of the way, before sweeping Angela's legs out from under her. Falling hard onto the floor, she barely raised her blade up in time to block his overhead strike. Bringing her legs up, she kicked out and caught Copperhead in the gut, launching him away from her. Taking advantage of the breathing room, she jumped back to her feet and re-assumed her fighting stance.

"I didn't expect O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. to make an appearance, or else I would have brought more guns." The two combatants began circling each other, probing for weaknesses or openings. "Of course, since they only sent a mere hired merc, this can't be too important to them." He came to a stop, prompting her to stop as well. A click came from his helmet.

"**Trying to unbalance me with distracting words is an exercise in futility. And now, you die."** He charged with an overhead swing, missing her by an inch when she dodged. Backing up into a table, Angela grabbed the lamp off it and hurled it at him. He responded by shattering it with a swing of his sword, before grabbing the Beretta U22 Neos at his hip and firing three shots. Two missed, but the third caught her in the right thigh.

"Gah!" She stumbled from the hit, and before she could recover Copperhead was right on top of her, bringing his blade down in one final strike. She brought both arms up in an attempt to block…only for a beeping sound to fill the air and the weapon to stop an inch from hitting her. Instantly Copperhead drew the blade away and put it back in its sheath, before stepping away and touching two fingers to the rim of his helmet.

"**Copperhead responding; meeting was disrupted, heading back." **Holstering his gun, Copperhead turned away and began moving to the ruined window. "Hey, don't turn your back on me." He looked over his shoulder to see Angela struggling to her feet. **"Stop me."** With that he turned back ahead and jumped; Angela hurried over to see him gliding away, arms stretched out for lift.

She stood there for just a bit longer, before crashing down to both knees in exhaustion. Looking around the destroyed room, she sighed softly at the turn things had taken. After a moment longer she struggled back to her feet and began searching for anything important; if O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. was involved, it couldn't be good.

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"Mr. Black, sir, I'm worried. Should it be taking this long?" Fisk stopped monitoring the computer for a moment to think about Ana's question. It was much harder than it sounded. "Jason and Angela are some of our best agents; you don't need to worry about them, just keep watch."

Groaning in frustration, Ana stood up from her seat on a trashcan and began pacing in front of the door. Halfway through her third pass however the door slammed open in her face, knocking her onto her back. Out came Alharbi and the other survivor, both looking like hunted animals. Neither seemed to notice the stunned Dog a foot from them

Blinking away the stars in her eyes, Ana quickly grabbed her gun and fired, catching the no-name in the chest. Before she could fire again Alharbi kicked the gun out of her hand, before bringing his foot down hard on the elbow joint of her right arm.

"Augh!" Her cry of pain echoed into the night, to be answered by a roar of rage. Alharbi only had a moment to look up in fear before being bodyslammed into the wall of the alleyway. Gasping in pain from the impact, he looked up and found himself gazing into the blood-red eyes of Jason, who had pinned him to the wall with his blades.

"Any last words?" Jason asked, raising his gun to the man's head. Alharbi's eyes flicked between the gun and the face of his killer, before responding in his native language _"This is not your world to control like common cops. The Adversary will come again." _Fisk spoke up over the radio.

"That doesn't sound good. Jason, bring him in for-" BAM! Alharbi's body fell to the ground in a heap, blood leaking from the bullet-hole in his head. "Jason! What the hell did I just say!? I wanted him brought in for questioning!" Jason tore his gaze away from the body, walking over to gently pick up Ana's whimpering form. "Hold on, I'll get that fixed up when we're somewhere safe." To Fisk all he said was "Sorry, my finger slipped." Taking out his earpiece, Jason began the long walk to the rendezvous point. _"It's going to be a rough week."_

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A/N: And so it begins. To tell all of you the truth, I had no idea that the chapter would be as long as it turned out to be. I can only hope that I was able to keep your attention with the action scenes. Please review, or else I'll call in a favor with Copperhead!


	2. The Recovery

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that can be found in Better Days or Original Life. What I do own, is refined through the dedicated work of my friend Brian Whitfield.

Note: words in _Italics_ denote that the person is thinking, speaking a non-English language, or is a recording. They will also be used for dates and times.

Original Days 2

Chapter Two: The Recovery

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_Washington, D.C._

_0117 hours_

The night was black, and cold. The few vehicles that wandered the streets were accompanied by an even fewer amount of people walking the sidewalks. Being mugged was one thing, but getting picked up for "suspicious" activity was far worse, and few wanted to risk it. Fear was the oldest of motivators, and ever since the September attacks three years back, there had been plenty of it. Now with the conflict in Afghanistan, and rumors of future conflict in Iraq, there would be more panic, more hate, and more Fear.

Quietly, a black unmarked van came to a stop in the parking area of a seemingly abandoned warehouse on the docks. Its arrival did not go by unnoticed, however, by the two company guards in the guard-house to the right of the main entrance. One of the guards started systematically checking the cameras to make sure it was the only vehicle nearby other than their own, while the other kept an eye on the unexpected company.

"Who do you think they are?" the Rabbit agent, Alex Hudden, asked, eyes shifting from the van to his partner. For four years the company had kept the warehouse sealed and safe, but never had anyone shown up like this before.

His Ferret partner, Malcolm Cross, shook his head and answered "I have no clue. They're the only ones in the area though, so keep your eye on them." After saying that, he grabbed his cell and began dialing in the number for headquarters; something like this had to be reported. Before he could finish dialing, however, Alex grabbed his hand, stopping him. "Look." Malcolm did so, to see an exquisitely shaped white-furred leg touching the ground from the opened side-door, and above that a matching hand sensually motioning for them.

"Oh for Pete's sake!" Malcolm shook his head in exasperation before pocketing the cellphone and standing up. _"A hooker, of course; it is the capital, after all."_ When he started moving for the door Alex spoke up. "Where are you going?"

"To get rid of them, duh. We can't exactly have them hanging around, can we?" said the Ferret as he left the booth to confront them. He missed his partner's mumbled "Why can't we keep them around?"

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As Malcolm got closer to the van, the leg and arm quickly drew back into it. He sighed and sped up. _"Couldn't these people find something better to do with their lives? Live can be too short to waste on something like this, after all."_ He started speaking just as he got to the side of the van.

"Shouldn't people like you be bothering a senator or somethi-" a blinding flash, a boom like thunder, and suddenly there was a huge hole were Malcolm's chest should have been. Slowly the delicate white-furred hand reached back out and, with a slight nudge, knocked the still-standing body over. Before Alex could do anything other than yell in shock, the back doors of the van slammed open; another flash of light and boom of thunder, and suddenly the booth erupted into a ball of fire.

"What a lovely explosion, simply wonderful!" Six Dogs jumped out of the van, forming a defensive perimeter between it and the building. Each wore dark-grey body armor with helmets that covered the entire head, and carried an MG4 light machine gun. After a moment the leader, distinguishable by the white strap on his right arm, motioned that it was all clear. Out from the vehicle stepped a young Feline woman, who couldn't have been any older than 17. She had creamy-white fur, and long tresses of snow-white hair falling down to her shoulder-blades. She was dressed in armored white trousers and shirt, fitted to accentuate her body while keeping it safe. Over this went a scale-armor skirt, open at the front for better mobility in combat. Strapped to her back was a three foot long, two inch wide metal staff.

"Pathetic" she said, glaring down at the crumpled body beside her. "If they're all going to be this easily disposed of, than our mission is nearly complete already." Turning to the leader of the solders, she held out to him what appeared to be an overly large grenade launcher. "Colonel Viper, when we get back to base, be sure to tell the weapons branch that the PRG works perfectly." Taking the weapon, he bowed and said "As you command, Lady Naraka."

The woman now known as Naraka smiled coldly, before motioning them forward. As one the group moved swiftly to the entrance, keeping an eye on the smoldering heap that was the guard post; stopping five feet from the door, the Colonel raised his weapon and blasted the door apart. The crackling fire drowned out Naraka's manic giggles.

Stepping inside, the group spread out, covering all corners; they needn't have bothered though. Aside from the teams that had been sent in to clear out all the dead bodies, no one had been in there in four years. Clear footprints were left were they walked, as they made their way straight to the back. Naraka stopped them, and then pointed at the two soldiers furthest back. "You two, begin setting up the transport equipment. Have it ready in time or I will kill you." Not waiting for replies, she focused on the other four.

"Listen, men, and remember. We have come here for a single, all-important reason, and that is to recover the body of my father, William Hite. I don't want any mistakes, or any screw-ups. Anyone who does make a mistake will not live to see another day!" She looked at the four surrounding her, as well as the two further away setting up some kind of gurney. Seeing that they perfectly understood her threat, she nodded and said "Good, now get to work."

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Naraka waited as the team went down into the flooded depths of the lab. She would have gone with them, but her brother had forbid her from putting herself in harm's way, unless it was necessary. Not wanting to disappoint him, and knowing everyone with her would tell if she did, Naraka obeyed. Not that she had wanted to disobey him anyway.

"_Big brother has always protected me. When father was murdered he comforted me; when mother died he made sure that he was the one to tell me. I could never hurt his trust."_

Naraka was the cofounder of the terrorist organization O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P., as well as second in overall command. Loving daughter of William Hite, she had studied and trained all her young life for the day when she would leave Japan, and go work with her father in America. The stories he had told her about the place; the people, the landmarks, the trademark American way of life! But then her father died, and a 13 year old girl grieved with what family she had left. Soon the grief turned to rage, righteous fury! She would make those who killed him pay! The ones, who took the light out of their lives, caused their mother to die of grief! They would all suffer!

The nervous looks from the nearby soldiers signaled to Naraka that she was giggling again, and she instantly forced herself to calm down. _"Patience, Naraka, patience. The first step of the plan is nearly complete. Revenge will be had, and my father's dream will be fulfilled."_ Suddenly the communicator on her belt beeped. Grabbing it, she moved away from the grunts before responding. "I've been waiting for your call. Is everything ready?"

A calm, composed voice reached her ears. "Everything is how it should be, dear sister. Copperhead has just returned and given me some very useful information. There will be a change of plans; we will discuss them after the revival." Silence for a moment, and then "Be careful, sister. I don't want to have to bury any more family." With that the caller cut off the signal, leaving Naraka to ponder what the changes could be.

"Maybe we'll finally be installing railing on all the damn walkways at headquarters" she said to herself, before noticing that the two grunts were staring at her.

"What, did I say that out loud?" Before either of them had the chance to answer, the sound of cars pulling up outside could be heard. Instantly the two dropped what they had been doing and formed up between Naraka and the door. One began radioing the others to hurry up, while the other kept his gun trained on the entrance.

Naraka rolled her eyes in annoyance, before pushing her way between the two and marching towards the door. The voice of one of the two caught her attention. "Lady Naraka, wait! It's too dangerous!" She stopped, before turning back to them with a twisted grin on her face. "Stop me, and I'll kill you." Then she turned back and started walking again. Sharing a look, the pair of soldiers nodded to each other once before hurrying to catch up. One of Lady Naraka's bloodbaths was not something to be missed.

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Outside, Naraka found herself staring down a seven agents, all of them with guns drawn and aimed at her. The one who appeared to be the leader yelled out for her and her soldiers to drop their weapons and surrender. Naraka motioned for her bodyguards to lower their weapons; they did so with hesitation. She nodded in satisfaction, before turning to the agents and speaking.

"I've heard the average agent can take on three U.S. marines and win. I would like to test that rumor!" Dashing forward, she delivered a crushing punch to the lead agent, before grabbing his gun and firing off two rounds into the chest of another. Dropping the gun, she spun around and used the body as a shield to absorb the sudden barrage of bullets. Dropping the body, she then rolled behind one of the parked cars to relative safety.

Grabbing the staff from her back, Naraka twisted it at the center and pulled; she suddenly had a pair of Katanas in her hands, each with a 18 inch blade. Twirling each once, she gave a satisfied nod before jumping up and over the car. Landing on the roof, she kicked off again and threw the sword in her left hand, piercing straight through one agent's gut. Landing in a crouch, she swung upwards and split another agent in half. Suddenly a kick to the back sent her stumbling.

Recovering, Naraka turned around and blocked a knife that was aimed at her chest. Pushing forward, she forced the agent away in time to dodge another slash from a different agent. Backing up she took stock of her opponents. Three remained, each one looking like they wanted to kill her in the most painful way possible. _"Hm, brother would probably be upset with me if I kept going. Oh well, they seemed like they were becoming a threat anyway."_ Holding her weapon in her right hand, she made a series of hand signs with her left; a second later a barrage of gunfire from her bodyguards cut the distracted agents down.

Naraka walked over and grabbed her second sword from the impaled agent, listening in pleasure as the blade slid out of its meaty sheath. Once it was fully free from the helpless Dog he groaned in pain, giving away that he was still hanging on to life. Raising her swords, Naraka prepared to end his suffering, before an idea entered her head. Grabbing him by the throat, she lifted him up to eye-level and said "Remember what's happened here, and warn your **masters**. Their days of ineptitude and incompetence are over. So says Naraka, daughter of White." Dropping him back to the ground, she turned away and returned to where her guards were. She noticed that the Colonel had returned and loaded up the package; everything was going according to plan.

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A/N: Hello everybody! What did ya'll think? I hope you like it, because there's a lot more to come!


	3. Misgivings

Disclaimer: I don't make any money from this work of fanfiction, none at all.

Note: Italics mean the words are either a recording, someone's thoughts, or in a non-English language.

Original Days 2

Chapter Three: Misgivings

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"Mommy, why are you burning the pancakes?" Five-year old Leo looked up at his mother curiously. Lucy snapped out of her stupor and looked down at the griddle, before cursing and quickly turning off the stove. Starring at the black and brown masses, she sighed in frustration before turning to her son with a guilty look on her face.

"Uhh, how does cereal sound?"

Leo stared at her for a second, before shrugging and taking a seat at the table. Sighing once more, Lucy quickly poured him a bowl of Cheerios before starting to clean up the mess she had made. For several minutes no sounds were to be heard other than those of Lucy trying to scrap the burnt pancake batter off the griddle. Just as she finished and stepped back for a breather a load groan came from the bed room, and a moment later Tom shuffled his way into the kitchen. "Morning Honey." He yawned, before sniffing the air and making a disgusted face. "Eww, what smells like burnt pancake?"

Lucy dumped the remains in the trash, before turning and looking at her husband with an abashed look on her face. "Sorry dear, I guess I just zoned out and wasn't paying attention." Tom shrugged and made his way to the coffee pot. "That's fine; I have a breakfast meeting today anyway."

"Daddy's gonna bring home the bacon!"

Tom chuckled at his son's bluntness, before reaching over and affectionately messing with his hair. "That's my boy. Now go on and get your school stuff ready, we'll be going soon." Leo quickly jumped out of his chair and ran for his bedroom, leaving the two adults alone in the kitchen. Tom turned to look at his wife, only for her to turn away and start fixing her own bowl of cereal. Tom sighed unhappily, before speaking.

"So, which nightmare was it this time? The one were White kills that guy who dated you for your mom, or the one where he helps you find Fisk's love letter after you lose it?" The sound of chewing stops, as she stares down at her bowl. "It was of him stopping Mom's rape while Fisk and I watched." Tom said "oh" and then looked down as well.

"Listen, Honey, you need to stop this. The guy tried to kill you, your brother, and your cousin! Not to mention the whole 'blow up the capital' thing he had going!"

"I know all that! You don't think I know that? I'm the one who killed him!" Tom flinched at the glare she sent him, and desperately hoped Leo hadn't heard her just then. After a moment her glare softened, and she turned away from his hurt expression. "It's just, he wasn't always like that. I remember everything he told me down there in the lab, and I start to think about how things **could** have been; I can't help myself. He would've been there when we needed advice, taught us how to do stuff, driven us to places we needed to go…it's not fair his life had to end up the way it did!"

Tom sat there thinking about what she had said. It was all true, after all. He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as Leo re-entered the room, back-pack in hand. "Okay, I'm ready to go!" He stopped and looked back and forth between his parents, sensing, the way only a child can, that something was wrong. "What's wrong?" Tom shot one last glance at Lucy, before standing up and putting his mug in the sink. "Nothing's wrong; you're mom and I were just thinking of having dinner with your uncle sometime soon. He just got back in the country you know. Now come on, it's time for school; if we hurry we may even be able to stop by McDonalds!"

This got the young boy's attention, and before they could blink he had run out of the kitchen and to the front door. Chuckling at his son's enthusiasm, Tom went to catch up; as he reached the kitchen door he turned back to Lucy, and whispered so that Leo couldn't hear "If you really can't stop thinking about what could have been, why don't you talk to your mom and Mr. Faunt? They should at least be able to tell you why things are the way they are." After that he left, and Lucy was left alone in the kitchen. Slowly she stood up and made her way to the bedroom; there, she went to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. From there she retrieved an old and wrinkled piece of paper and sat down on the bed.

"_What could have been"_ she thought as she gazed at the adoption form.

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"-After that I carried Ana to the rendezvous point and fixed her arm up." Jason finished recounting his part in the mission, before stepping back to level with Angela and Fisk; a bit behind and to their left stood Ana with her right arm in a sling. They were currently debriefing with Ryan; he sat in his office, behind his desk. To his right stood his current bodyguard, Derek Church; several feet to his left a window opened out to a view of the city.

Ryan sat in silence for a moment, pondering what his agents had told him, and how it might be connected to the events of the previous night. Finally he spoke. "The Adversary will come again. What could that mean? Who is the Adversary?"

Jason shrugged nonchalantly. "Who says there even is one? He was probably trying to sound like he knew something worth keeping him alive for, people do it all the time." Fisk shook his head in disagreement. "Yeah, but that's not what it sounded like. It sounded more like a threat to me, and threatening the person who is about to kill you is not exactly a good idea." Not being the type to back down, Jason countered "Well if it was a threat then it was a bad one. He was Arabic; the Arabic word for adversary is al-Shaitan, or if you would prefer, Satan. So unless someone's planning to sick the Devil on us, I'm pretty sure it was an empty threat!"

Ryan watched as the two went back and forth in their argument, and sighed. This was happening more and more often; usually the arguments were started by Jason contradicting something Fisk said, but that was beside the point. If something didn't change he would have to take action. But right now he had a debriefing to finish. Sighing, he shot a pleading look to the person who always broke up the two cousins. Angela caught his look and nodded; cracking her knuckles, she raised her arms and bashed the arguers on the skull. "Shut up, the boss is still talking!"

"Oww!" Holding his head, Jason shot a glare at Ryan. "You could have just asked you know." Ryan ignored him and looked to Angela. "You said you fought the O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. member Copperhead, any idea what he was doing there?" At this Angela sighed and shook her head. "No, I don't sir. Considering his delayed response to my assault he could have been observing the meeting, and not an actual part of it. But then that raises the question of why would he be observing."

At this point Ana, who for the entire meeting so far had remained silent, spoke up. "Listen, I know I'm new here, but what is O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P.? I've never heard of that group before." Silence reigned in the room. Ryan's eyes' met Fisk's and a silent exchange passed between them for several moments; finally, with a sigh, Fisk broke eye contact and stood up. Between the two of them, Fisk knew more about the group, as he had been the first to encounter them.

Pacing to the window, Fisk began to speak. "O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. is a relative newcomer to the world intelligence conflict. We believe they may have started in Japan, but we're not sure. The acronym means Organization For The Advancement of Nuclear And Military Powers. The way they work is to contact different governments and organizations, offering their military and espionage services in exchange for money and safe-haven. Recently they have begun becoming more dangerous in the jobs they take; assassinations, kidnappings, acts of terrorism, you get the idea."

"But, surely we know more than that, right?" Ana looked around at the surrounding faces, suddenly feeling way out of her depth. "I mean, surely you at least know you **founded **the organization, don't you?" Fisk began to respond, but a quickly raised hand from Ryan stopped him. "Until recently we had no information one way or the other about who founded or led the group. However, last night something occurred, something new."

Fisk looked at him warily. "What do you mean? What has happened?" Taking in the questioning looks sent his way, Ryan settled his gaze on Anna. "This information is highly sensitive. It might be better if those not involved with events four years ago leave. Now."

Ana looked to her trainer uncertainly. In response Jason smiled reassuringly and said "Why don't you go help Karen with going over the stuff we found? It was a lot." Ana said sure and left, leaving in the room Ryan, Fisk, Angela, Jason, and Church.

Seeing she was gone and he had everyone's attention, Ryan proceeded. "Late last night unknown forces raided the warehouse; you know the one." Everyone nodded in understanding, while Jason rubbed at the phantom pain he felt whenever he was reminded of that place. You don't get smashed through a table without it leaving an impression.

He continued "They killed the guards with an unidentified weapon, before four of them continued into the labs down below."

"I thought that those labs were still flooded with water and radiation? It would have taken some pretty fancy equipment to survive down there."

Ryan looked at the speaker, Angela. "Well, they did. We don't have any surveillance equipment of any kind down there, so we don't know what happened, but when they came back up they were carrying a large body-bag with them. The analysts believe that they recovered White's body."

"Why would they do that?" Fisk asked, though he thought he knew where this was going. A moment later Ryan confirmed his suspicions.

"A survivor of the team of agents sent to respond to the alarm recounted the fight against a mysterious woman, a Cat. Apparently she identified herself as White's daughter, Naraka." Here his face grew even more serious. "She single-handedly fought and killed three agents. No one's been able to do that since White himself."

His audience sat there in numb silence. Jason's hand reached up and brushed the three-inch scar that marred the right side of his face. "You're telling me…that there's another White out there?" At Ryan's nod he stood up. "In that case, I need a drink. Call if you need me."

Ryan frowned as his most volatile agent walked away. It was understandable; of the three who had fought White, Jason had come the closest to dying. He noticed Fisk and Angela were looking at the door worriedly, so he quickly dismissed them with a grin on his face. "You three have a week off. Rest and relax while you can, I have a feeling we'll be busy soon."

Once the door closed Ryan's smile faded, and with a heavy sigh leaned back in his chair. "What am I going to do with him Church?"

"Sir?"

Opening his eyes Ryan looked at his him. "Jason. I had hoped that Fisk's calm control of his emotions would rub off on Jason; that's why I put them together in the first place. Instead he's even more violent than when he and I first met." His gaze shifted to the window; the view was incredible, especially at that time when summer was beginning. "It is getting harder and harder to explain away his actions to the other directors." He turned back to look Church in the eye. "If he became a liability, I would be forced to take action to insure he doesn't stay one. If I did, would you, as his friend, interfere?" Church was taken aback by what he had been asked. Sure he had known about Jason's emotional problems, as well as a secret only he was in on; but that Jason could actually become a liability?

Swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat, Church returned his employer's stare. "You can count on me sir."

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Contrary to where he said he was going to go, Fisk and Angela finally tracked Jason to the gym. He had shrugged off his shirt and duster, and was currently wreaking havoc on the heavy bag. Angela started to step forward until a hand on her arm and shake of the head from Fisk stopped her. Nodding in compliance, she stepped back to level with him as they watched Jason vent.

As time went by Fisk used this chance to observe his cousin, specifically how he fought. Fisk would be the first to tell anyone that he was not the physically strongest around. He relied more on lightning-fast jabs and kicks mixed with grappling techniques to take his opponents down. It was primarily formed from his Army training, and Fisk would every so often arrange meetings with Army instructors to insure he was up to speed on the current techniques.

Jason though, was a completely different story. His blows were slower than Fisk's, but they were nonetheless fast and furious. He put his entire body behind each blow, and would strike with every body part he could; including fists, palms, feet, elbows, knees, shins, and even his head every so often. Before he had met Jason Fisk never really understood the phrase "fists of fury", but now he thought he had a pretty good idea what it meant. Jason's style seemed **angry**, like a physical representation of the emotion. Not for the first time Fisk wondered which of the two cousins would win in a fight. Fisk had the greater experience for sure, but Jason undoubtedly had better stamina.

Pushing aside those thoughts for a later time, Fisk noticed Jason had finally stopped abusing the poor bag. Walking over with Angela, Fisk handed Jason a bottle of water. "You always forget to bring one of your own." Nodding in thanks, Jason grabbed it and took several gulps.

"Are you going to be okay" Angela asked him worriedly. Jason wiped his mouth and looked at her, before grabbing his shirt off the ground. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just felt the need to bloody my knuckles before dinner." He ended his reassurance with a broad smile; one that anyone could tell was fake. Fisk grabbed his shoulder and stopped him from walking off. "Jason, you know you can trust in us, right?"

Jason averted his gaze, refusing to make eye contact. "Yeah man, I know that. You two are the first people I knew I can trust in. It's just the thought of White having had a kid. If she's anything like her old man, she going to go after our loved ones; that years me up, the thought of anyone dieing because of us. Because we fail, or are too weak." His eyes strayed to Angela; her head was bowed, hiding from her friends their pain.

Fisk slung his arm around Jason's shoulders. "Hey, don't get all 'doom and gloom' before anything happens. If anyone tries to hurt our loved one's we just do what we do best!" Angela looked up with a fierce look in her eyes, while Jason laughed ferally.

"Hell yeah, we'll do whatever it takes to stop 'em! I like it!" Slipping out from under Fisk's arm, Jason walked off to the door. "Now come on guys, I was serious about getting a drink. Who's payin'?"

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A/N: Third chapter is complete and ready for reading! This one sets up a lot of the groundwork for the rest of the story, especially in the relationship between Fisk, Angela, and Jason. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.


	4. Oh Dear

Disclaimer: I make no money from this story. It is fanfiction, fiction written by a fan of something.

Note: Italics mean the words are either a recording, someone's thoughts, or in a non-English language. They will also be used for locations and times.

Original Days

Chapter Four: Oh Dear

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_Somewhere in the southern Atlantic Ocean_

_2216 hours_

"AAUGH!! Stop it! Please, stop it! AAUGH! AGH, AAAAGH! For the love of God, STOP! I HAVE A WIFE! KIDS! AAAUGH! I BEG YOU! STOP!!"

Red, uncaring eyes watched in clinical interest as the Rabbit experienced the effects of the latest injection. An old, skeleton-thin Cat in a pristine white lab coat watched as his subject squirmed around on the table, screaming like mad. The cries of anguish were accompanied by the heavy sound of a respirator, before the scientist adjusted a knob and brought his breathing back to normal. The emaciated Cat moved to a nearby computer console, where he typed in his observations.

"_Newest dose exhibits approximately 45% greater efficiency than the last version. However, subject is still able to form coherent speech and thoughts. Subject is also experiencing higher heart-rate and stronger pulse than previously anticipated; possible outcomes of this increase are currently unknown."_ He was broken out of his thoughts when the Rabbit's screaming changed to a strained gurgling, before dropping limp on the table. The scientist pressed a button near the console, and a thin green light traced over the Rabbit's chest. After a moment it stopped, and a digital image of the chest cavity appeared on a separate screen. Dark eyes studied it hungrily, before he turned away and began typing again. _"Fascinating. Prolonged exposure will result in the heart bursting from the strain. I will change the designation of the liquid from interrogation tool to possible military weapon. More testing is required._

As he directed his assistants to remove the body, a voice spoke up behind him. "Careful, Dr. Amedeo. Fresh subjects are not as easy to come by as they once were."

Dr. Claudandus Amedeo, a geneticist, a bio-engineer without equal. Also without equal is the list of atrocities he has committed over the decades in the name of science. The greatest of these and the reason he is on the run from nearly every country in the world, is his experimentation on hundreds of children from six to fresh out of the womb, in the attempt to engineer perfect eyes. Of those experiments, there is only one known survivor.

Currently however, he was turning to address his current employer.

"Ah, Lady Naraka, it is pleasurable to see you once more." His voice came out in a slithering hiss, compounded by the mechanical alteration of the respirator. He eyed her up and down, taking in her body posture. "I assume you are not here because you reconsidered my offer of 'improvements'?"

She smirked and shook her head no. "No, Doctor. I'd prefer to stay in one piece. I want to know the status of my father." The doctor's eyes suddenly gleamed with an unnatural light, as he moved to leave the room. "Ah yes, the dead man. Everything is prepared; I vas just vaiting for you and your brother. Speaking of vhich, vhere is he?"

Naraka replied "He's left the base to fulfill the next part of the plan, he said don't wait."

"Than let us go, I have everything set up." With that, Amedeo set off down the passage, Naraka following close behind.

The halls were an icy white in color, with the doors differentiated from the walls only through a thin line of blue along the seams. The ceilings were left panel-less, revealing the heating tubes and electrical wiring that ran through the whole base. Each of their steps caused a sharp clang to resound off the metal grating; all of this together made it nearly impossible to sneak down a hallway without being detected.

Amedeo talked as they went to their destination. "I will be blunt, my Lady. The subject you gave me is the most damaged subject I have ever vorked on before. His left arm was slashed off from the elbow down, so that had to be replaced. His right knee had been crushed by an exceptional force, most likely a table thrown around by the raging waters; that also required replacing. Several ribs were fractured; replaced. A deep slash across his face went down to the bone; that required seaming together with artificial skin. The body had to be drained of water and refilled with new blood. And hardest of all, the softer tissues had began to decay in several veaker areas; the lips, the nose, the eyes; thankfully the brain itself was remarkably untouched."

Naraka turned to him with impatient eyes. "Are you telling me he'll be blind?" She asked this in a sickeningly sweet tone, but the amoral doctor knew his next words would decide if he lived or died.

"Not at all, my Lady! As you should know, eyes are my specialty. I put in new ones, with some of my own alterations." They came to a door, where the scientist quickly inputted the password before stepping aside so his companion could enter the room first. It was circular, with an area roughly 18 feet by 18 feet. Numerous machines formed a semi-circle around an eight foot table in the center of the room. Attached to the ceiling above the table hung a huge spherical machine, with two conduits pointing down at the table from it.

Naraka's gaze ignored all of this, instead drawn to the body lying on the table. "Father…"

She turned to look at Amedeo, to see him powering up the machines. "You said eyes with some of your on alterations. Does that mean he'll be able to see like the younger Black?" The doctor continued with the preparations as he answered. "Unfortunately, no he vill not. The young Black received my 'gift' barely a day out of the womb. As he's gotten older they've integrated stronger and stronger with his genetic code. He's had a lifetime for them to develop, and that vill always give him an edge. But, Vhite's new eyes are still superior to his old ones; they will never veaken with age, or be blinded by strong light. Now enough of this talk, it is time!"

With a final button pressed the center machine lit up in a blaze of energy. Electricity crackled angrily along the lengths of the two conduits, filling the room with a foreboding charge. Naraka watched as Amedeo directed the conduits down until they were just above White, one in front of his face and the other pointing at where his heart would be. Another button press and the upper conduit let loose its charge into White's brain in a continuous stream. The lower one meanwhile began letting off measured pulses into the chest.

The young White's eyes nearly glowed in excitement as the energy discharges colored the room and its occupants in jagged shadows. Suddenly her breath hitched in her throat as she saw first one finger move, then another. Slowly White's right hand curled into a fist, causing a look of mad glee to appear on Naraka's face. _"Father."_

Suddenly White's eyes snapped open, and an animalistic roar escaped from his lips as he strained against his restraints. Amedeo quickly shut off the machines, before disengaging the locks on the table; White immediately slumped back down to the table, ragged breathing the only sound to be heard. Naraka stood there, transfixed by the sight of her father. He was everything she remembered, no, more!

"_Tall, broad-shouldered, beautiful white fur; Father, my father."_ She slowly inched her way to him, seemingly unnoticed by the previously dead Cougar. "Daddy?"

His head snapped in her direction and a growl sounded from deep within his throat; his eyes were a dark, nearly black, red. None of this had had an effect on the young woman as she got closer and tried again. "Daddy? It's me, Hinata." At that the growling stopped, and the wildness left his eyes, leaving in its place shock and confusion.

"Hinata?" He turned his head, taking in every detail of the room. He spotted Dr. Amedeo near the door, before focusing back on his daughter. "What- were am I? What happened to the Blacks?" He stopped as the sound of his voice reached his ears. It was harder than he remembered, and had a strange mechanical rasp to it. Startled, he reached up to his face, before his eyes locked on his left hand.

It was long and spindly, and the color of bleached bone. Each finger was tipped by an inch-long razor-like blade. The machinery went all the way to his elbow, before abruptly changing to flesh and fur. "What happened to me?"

Naraka approached slowly, but not out of fear; she could never fear her father. Rather, it was because she was just overwhelmed by all of it. "You, you died father. Those bastard Blacks killed you! They left you to rot down there in that lab! But, but Brother and I, we found out! We've been working to avenge you, and work even now to fulfill your dreams! We've created an entire organization just for it!"

White turned from his hand to her. "Organization?" His eyes then shifted back to Amedeo, and he stepped around his daughter's bent form to walk to him. "Dr. Amedeo; quite an honor. Would it be presumptuous of me to assume that you are responsible for my apparent resurrection?" The doctor nodded yes. "Than you finally managed to create your life-giver; congratulations. I must thank you for reuniting me with my family. How long was I deceased?"

Amedeo looked to where Naraka was looking at him enviously, before shuddering and turning his attention back to his intellectual equal. "It is currently the 16th of June, 2003, Mr. Vhite. Much has happened since your death; the vorld has changed.

Before White could ask what he meant Naraka jumped back in. "The world's horrible Father! Brother and I are doing what we can but it just gets worse and worse!" White growled and grabbed her by the throat, eliciting a pained gasp as the metallic fingers drew blood.

"Damn it girl! I told you, stay out of it! This isn't the life I want for you or your brother!" She looked like she had been slapped. "But, Father-"

"No Hinata! I will take over from here. Take your brother, and go back to your mother to a life of peace!" He shoved her away, before turning back to the silent doctor; before he could speak though Naraka whispered "Mother's dead." White stopped, mouth hanging open revealing shark-like teeth, before slowly turning to her.

"What did you say?"

Amedeo answered for her. "Your lover, Aiko, vas killed during a terrorist attack on the Vorld Trade Center by Islamic extremists. Soon after your children vowed to avenge you too, even taking on new names as you did. Your daughter is now Naraka, while your son goes by Preta."

Naraka and Amedeo watched as White's face changed from emotionless to enraged. His hands clenched, and the sound of straining metal could be heard as the metal claws on his fingers tried to pierce the palm plate. Finally he lost control and threw his head back, roaring in agony. Naraka flinched and cowered, while the doctor merely watched in disinterest.

Soon the roar weakened and ended, and White looked at his daughter in a new way. "If you are going to help me, you will have a name of **my **choosing. You are now Asura, demon, and your brother will be Deva, angel. Together we will bring destruction to our enemies, and enforce **our **order on this chaotic world!" The newly-named Asura shook her head rapidly, eager to please her father. Satisfied, White asked a question that had been bothering him since he had learned about his dead lover.

"Now, where is your brother?"

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"Oh Fisk, you're spoiling me."

The Cat in question smiled at his wife as he poured her some more of the wine they had ordered with their meals. They were having a night on the town just as they always did whenever Fisk got back from an important mission. Tonight they were enjoying a quiet dinner at one of the more expensive places in town, a place that Fisk had needed to do three jobs before he had saved up enough for the two of them. It had all become worth it however when he had seen her face light up when they pulled into the parking area.

"You're worth spoiling" he said as he set the bottle back down. Picking up his own glass, he held it out. "To successful missions and people we love to spoil" he proposed as they clinked their glasses.

"I'm not going to argue with that" Elizabeth said, more to herself than to her husband. She knew perhaps more than he did how much he needed this job. After Janie had been born and he quit the company, something had changed. He had seemed lost, unsure of what to do with himself. It had greatly worried her, but she had no idea what to do about it.

And then came the phone call from Ryan, and she saw some of the fire that had been lost reappear in his eyes. Weeks later when he came back and told her he was rejoining the company, she nodded and said okay, because as much as it pained her to know that every job could be his last; that one day he could come back missing an arm, or an eye; she would never try to keep him from doing what he had been born to do, what made him happy.

Unnoticed by her Fisk had tensed up as suddenly. His battle instincts, found on the warzone and honed in the field, were nearly screaming at him to **move**. Restraining himself from looking nervous, he casually scanned the room. He didn't see anyone looking in their direction, and only two people seemed to be heading their way, a couple by the looks of it; the woman seemed to be complaining about the tables that the waiter tried to seat them at, while the man just followed along resignedly.

They didn't seem like a threat, they had nowhere to hide weapons. Fisk turned to the window they had been seated at; outside maybe? The restaurant was located on the third floor of an office building, so a shot from the ground seemed unlikely. There were no nearby rooftops to take advantage of either.

"_Where? Where is the danger?"_

By this point the couple had moved to just near them. The Rabbit woman looked like she was about to complain once more when the man, a silver-furred Cat, grabbed her by the arms. "Listen, honey, we are probably really annoying the other people here with this. Please stop complaining about every single place we are seated at! Now come on, there is a nice table just over there…"

He started to guide her to the right table, before turning and addressing the nearest table; them. "I am so sorry, sir and ma'am. This is the first time she has ever been to such a nice restaurant, and does not seem to know how to act." Elizabeth smiled understandingly, while Fisk nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" Marching back over, she raised her arm to slap the poor fellow; suddenly three gunshots were fired, and her chest literally exploded outwards, spraying the man with blood and bits of bone.

As screaming filled the air and the body slumped to the floor, Fisk sprang into action. Knocking over the table onto its side, he dove behind it and dragged his wife with him. Two more shots could be heard, before a voice yelled out above the screaming and panicking diners.

"**Shiro! Come out of hiding! We know you are here!"**

Fisk started in shock. _"Copperhead? What's he doing here, and who is Shiro?"_Peeking around the make-shift cover, Fisk quickly took in the situation. Copperhead, along with two others, had stepped out from the door leading to the kitchen, and was striding towards them. Between Copperhead and the Blacks kneeled the man, shocked expression on his face as he cradled the dead woman's head in his lap; Fisk distinctly heard him mumbling "no" over and over.

"_Wait a minute. The angle of the shots, the position of Copperhead, the woman's movement; if she hadn't of moved, he would have been shot. He was the target all along." _Sliding back behind the table, he turned to Elizabeth. One look at his face told her that Fisk was gone; in front of her was the professional, the killer, Mr. Black. "You, get out of here."

She glanced around the barricade before turning back to him, disbelief on her face. "I can't, they're looking this way. I'll get shot before I make it three feet." He didn't waste a moment, taking out the gun he always had on him and shooting out the window in front of them. Before she could protest he had picked her up and, after one glance to the ground below, dropped her through the window. Screaming in shock, Elizabeth plummeted the three stories before roughly landing in a clump of decorative bushes. Gasping to regain her breath, one thought went through Elizabeth's mind.

"_If he does this kind of stuff every mission, I'm gonna have to invest in parachutes."_

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Confidently, Copperhead strode to the target. He was not worried about getting stopped; the agent Black had shot through the window and jumped to safety, or so he thought. Stopping beside the whimpering Cat, Copperhead felt a small twinge of guilt, before ruthlessly crushing it. After all, it wasn't his fault the woman had gotten in the way. Finished with this thought, the mercenary drew his Katana and leveled it above the distraught target's neck.

"**You should not have said no, Shiro-san. Now you die."**

He swung down, only for his blade to be intercepted by a knife. His head snapped up just in time to see the fist crash into his helmet. Staying on the offensive, Fisk crouched down and swept Copperhead's legs out from under him, before diving to the side to avoid the hail of gunfire sent his way from the two subordinates.

Grabbing a nearby wine-bottle, Fisk spun around and threw it, quickly following that up with a bullet. The bullet shattered the bottle between the two, launching razor-sharp shards of glass at them. One of them was pierced through the jugular, sending them to the floor clutching at the gushing blood; the other cried out in pain and staggered as a piece embedded itself in his cheek. He was finished off with a bullet from Fisk.

Suddenly Fisk caught movement in his peripheral vision, and spun to block the sword slash with his gun; the sword dug into the barrel, but the gun held. Copperhead jerked and pulled, wrenching the gun from Fisk's grasp. Without missing a beat, Fisk snapped a kick at his enemy's exposed side; Copperhead blocked with his right arm, and then slashed at the trapped leg. Fisk jumped and placed both hands on the floor, spinning and landing a devastating blow with the other leg. Both fell to the floor and rolled to get some distance.

Copperhead grunted in pain as he got back to his feet. He reached to pick up his dropped weapon, only for it to be broken in two by a gunshot from Fisk. "Don't even think about it. Why are you here?" Copperhead slowly stood back up, feigning surrender. As soon as Fisk started to take a step forward Copperhead grabbed a metallic ball from his belt and threw it at the ground; a blinding light flashed, and for several seconds he couldn't see anything. By the time Fisk's sight had returned to him, Copperhead was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it." Holstering his firearm, Fisk noticed the sound of sirens growing closer. "Double damn it." Without wasting any time he strode over to the only other person in the room. Staying silent, he watched as the man, who could be no older than 19, sob over the woman's body; blood continued to stain the ground around him, pooling in an ever larger circle. Fisk reached down and gently grasped his shoulder.

"Come on, she's dead. We need to get out of here." Slowly, and with great reluctance, Fisk managed to coax the shell-shocked man into a standing position. From there the two made their way to the exit; the Cat clung to Fisk's arm, as if letting go would kill him. Fisk rubbed his back in a soothing gesture, to help calm him down. Putting on the most comforting face he could, Fisk asked a pressing question. "What is your name?" Silence, and then with a stutter the Cat responded.

"S-Shiro. Akira Shiro."

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A/N: He lives! Mr. White has been brought back, and seeks vengeance for many things. The question is, why does O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. want poor little Akira Shiro dead?

By the way, I know that in Japan, the family name come before the given name, for example, Black Fisk. But to make things simpler, I'm going to have all Japanese name's arranged the normal way. And if anyone wants a hint for what makes Akira Shiro so important to the story, look up the word Shiro.

One last note. In Hinduism Deva is a Sanskrit word meaning "god or deity." It can be interpreted to mean angel as well. The Asura, on the other hand, are a group of power-seeking deities. They are often compared to demons and the like. Boy this was a long author's note. Anyway, see ya'll this time next week for another exciting chapter of "Original Days 2!"


	5. Tenderness, and New Meetings

Disclaimer: I do not own Better Days or its characters. If I did, I would just make this in the comic instead of writing it.

Original Days 2

Chapter 5: Tenderness, and New Meetings

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Jason's eye's opened slowly, reluctant to leave the contentedness of sleep. Early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, falling upon the sleeping forms in the bed. Jason yawned and blinked to get the sleepiness out of his eyes. After that he cautiously lifted himself out of the bed, careful not to wake its other occupant.

Standing to his full height, Jason lifted his arms above his head, feeling the bones pop and the muscles stretch. Finished, he turned back to the bed, watching as the covers rose and fell with the gentle breathing of the sleeper. Jason smiled wistfully, reaching down to run his hand softly through her hair; she stirred a bit, before turning over to face in his direction.

Jason stayed a moment longer in case she woke up, but when nothing happened he stood back up and made his way to the walk-in shower. Turning on the water, he slipped out of his boxers before stepping in. The warm water ran through the black and white fur covering his body, eliciting a soft groan. He stood there for several minutes letting the water soak into his fur, before grabbing the soap and beginning to lather up.

Suddenly the shower door opened, and Jason felt a pair of hands begin to clean his back. Leaning into the touch, Jason moaned as the hands got all of the spots he himself couldn't reach. When they stopped Jason turned around, red eyes locking with pink. A smile played on his lips, as he said one word. "Angel."

She responded "Happy Birthday", before their lips met together in a passionate kiss. Their tongues twirled about each other, fighting for dominance. Eventually they broke for air, allowing Jason to reach around and slide the door back into place. Once that was taken care of, he once more enveloped Angela's lips with his own, infusing the kiss with all his passion; Angela readily returned it. Before things could escalate though Angela stopped and softly pressed Jason away. He reluctantly nodded once, before turning away and starting to rinse off.

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"Good morning ma'am, I came to inform you that breakfast will be ready in a moment."

Angela turned to the speaker. A grey-furred Cat, modestly dressed, stood in the doorway of the bedroom. She responded as she finished strapping on her boots. "Thank you Dalfer, I'll be there in a moment." He nodded once before looking to the other person dressing. "And will you be staying for breakfast, Master Black?"

Jason looked up from where he had been strapping on his autorevolvers. "Well sure, I'd love to!" He began to move forward, until a sharp look from Angela stopped him. "Unfortunately however, Jason has to go to work early; something about going over the latest job with Mr. Tobs."

The hired helper nodded one final time before wishing Jason a happy birthday and leaving to check on the food. After he did Jason turned away from his companion and continued in his preparations. Angela opened her mouth, before thinking better of it and returning to her own preparations. The uncomfortable silence continued to reign over them, stifling them. Finally Jason couldn't stand it anymore. "Will I ever be allowed to stay for breakfast?" Angela looked at him wearily; this was a question she had heard many times.

"I'm sorry Jason, but you can't. I've said before that agents aren't allowed to have romantic relations with each other, it leads to conflicted loyalties." Jason kept his breathing even, hoping it would help keep his temper in check; it didn't.

"Then what the hell am I to you then, uh? I payed your medical bills while you were pregnant, I buy a home for you, I sleep with you, I even loaned you the family butler! Am I just some rich friend you can mooch off of, and use to take care of your urges once in a while? Am I a toy!? Answer me!"

"Jason, stop it!" Her cry shook him out of his rage, only for him to realize he had grabbed her by the neck. Letting go, he backed away a few steps; Angela dropped to the floor, gasping and massaging her bruised throat. He looked close to panicking. "I, I'm sorry. I just, I want more Angel, but I know I shouldn't. It gets harder, every day, to be a friend to you, when I want to be so much more. It's not fair."

Angela, breathing back to normal, moved to beside him and wrapped her arms around him; he leaned into it, enjoying the feel of her naturally cool fur to his naturally warm fur. It was a contrast he loved to feel. "I understand how you feel Jason, but this is the closest we can be." He nodded; he didn't like it, but he had to accept it.

After that the two made their way out, one heading for the kitchen, the other for the door. Jason reached for the handle and began turning, before a sudden desire struck him. Turning from the door, he backtracked past the kitchen to a room adjacent from the master bedroom. He quietly inched the door open, softly stepping inside. The room was dark, not that it mattered much to Jason as he easily made his way to the crib in the center. Looking into it, a loving, fatherly smile graced his face, as he observed the sleeping child.

"_Constantine." _Soft brown fur shone softly in the little sunlight that made it through the blinds. The membranes on his arms fluttered slightly as the small child shifted in his sleep. Suddenly the baby Bat let out a harsh cough, and tiny flecks of red appeared on the blanket. Jason's hands clenched into fists at the sight, and not for the first time he cursed the world, and the cruelty in it.

He was broken from his thoughts as his cellphone vibrated, along with Angela's in the kitchen. Flipping it open, he made his way to the door, shutting it behind him as he moved down the hall. "What up?"

Ryan gazed darkly out his window, defying the brightness and warmth of that early summer morning. His gaze darkened further as he observed Jason and Angela arrive together in Jason's Aston Martin. _"Reckless fool."_ The intercom on his desk sounded, and the voice of the front desk operator informed him that Jason and Angela were on their way up. He thanked her before returning to gaze out the window. To his right side, near the other end of the room, a resigned voice spoke.

"You know, he's going to be upset over being called in on his birthday. Not to mention that you gave him a week off."

"I don't care," Ryan spoke back, turning to glare at Church. "This is more important than his wants, don't forget that." Church withered under Ryan's glare; Fisk, sitting on the couch to the right of the door as you come in, stayed out of it.

Before long the door flew open, and Jason strode in, Angela close behind. 'Okay Bossman, I'm thirty and not in the best of moods, so unless you want me to infiltrate my birthday party, or maybe a strip joint, why exactly should I be here today?" Fisk groaned at the blatant disrespect being shown to his superior. If it had been anyone else they would have been out looking for a new place of employment within the hour; unfortunately, the most respectful Jason seemed capable of being was calling you by your real name.

Church on the other hand grinned at the nickname. Picking up a small book beside him, he turned to Jason tossed it. "Jason, think fast!"

Jason turned to Church, only to get hit in the face by the thrown object. "Son-of-a-, what the hell was that for?!" Church shrugged innocently. "Hey, I said think fast." Rubbing his aching nose, Jason growled out "And have you ever seen me do that before?" Fisk snorted, while Angela tried to hide the smile on her face. Going back over what he had said, Jason realized what he had done. Growling one last time at the chuckling Church, he turned his attention to the ballistic reading material he had been assaulted with.

**101 Monty Python Quotes (Are those coconuts?)**

Jason stared for a moment, before he suddenly wrapped the Church in a bone-crushing hug. "This is the best birthday ever! I love you, I love you, I love you!" he shouted. Church's eyes bugged out, as he struggled to escape the killer grip. "Can't…breath, ribs…breaking. Help!" Fisk cleared his throat. "Come on Jason, let go before there's nothing left." He reached beside him and held up a metal box, about four feet long and one foot wide. "Here, a show of appreciation for that one time in Montreal."

Jason smirked at the remark, taking the box and putting it aside for later. At Fisk's questioning look he responded "Well I'd hate to make Bossman wait any longer to tell us what's up." The four agents turned to Ryan. Ryan was leaning on one arm and staring at them all emotionlessly; the steady tapping of fingers against metal could be heard by all.

Deciding to ignore how laidback his agents were getting, he activated the building-wide intercom. "Ana, wherever you are in the building, start heading back here with him." After that he turned to Fisk. "You were there last night Fisk, tell them what happened." Fisk nodded once and stood up, turning to face the assembled group. He began recounting the events of the previous night, and as he did Jason's countenance darkened.

After five minutes he finished, leaving the room in silence. Jason looked to the window, deep in thought. "You said his name was Akira Shiro? Are you sure that's it?" Fisk looked at him oddly.

"Yeah, that's what he said his name was. Why, have you heard it before?" Jason shrugged and turned away from the window. "Well I've never heard the name Akira before, but when I was a kid my dad did some business with some Japanese company called ShiroTech. I remember it had been run by someone named Aiko Shiro, but beyond that I couldn't tell you anything."

"I can tell you more." Everyone turned to the door, where a Cat stood; a bit behind him stood Ana, who Jason noticed was blushing slightly. The Cat was fairly tall, with a thin, well-toned body. Loose black pants and a brown shirt covered silvery-white fur. Contrasting with this was black hair, short in the back but hanging down slightly past eye-level in the front. Black eyeliner and purple highlights on the tips of his ears completed the look.

Jason's cheeks reddened a bit, as Ryan stood up to shake the new-comer's hand. "Greetings Mr. Shiro, I am Ryan Tobs. I am incredibly sorry for your loss. I assume young Ana here explained what exactly it is we do here?" The Cat nodded once, before his eyes cast about the room, eventually settling on Jason. "She did a good job. And don't be afraid to call me Akira, I prefer it." Ryan nodded his head. "Very well Akira. So, what can you tell us about your company?"

Akira shifted a bit, folding his arms across his chest. "I don't really do a lot of the day-to-day stuff, not until I'm older, but I do know what there is to know. ShiroTech is the world's leading manufacturer of robotic technologies; specifically, replacement parts for injured soldiers. Many militaries buy from us, as well as law enforcement agencies."

"So your company is highly influential" Ryan asked, gaining a nod from Akira. Fisk spoke next. "Akira, last night I remember hearing Copperhead comment that you shouldn't have said no to them. Does that mean you were approached by O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P.?"

"Yes. They wanted to acquire various artificial parts; arms, legs, and organs. I immediately refused." He lowered his head, gaze distant and sad; his hands began shaking from the held-in emotion. "As you saw last night Mr. Black, I payed the price for that."

Jason strode forward and placed his hand on Akira's shoulder in a comforting manner. "Don't worry Akira; we'll get the ones responsible. I promise you that." He turned to Ryan. "Right?"

"Right. Akira, these people after you will not stop until you either give them what it is they want or die. Do you have any problems with some of my agents guarding you, at least until we come up with a long-term plan?" The young Cat shook his head no. "I accept your offer of protection Mr. Tobs. There is a secondary headquarters to my company in New York City; I will stay there to make this job easier on your agents.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Faunt! Rodriguez! Blacks!" The named agents snapped to attention immediately. "I am cutting your vacation short. Your new mission is to guard the life of one Akira Shiro; you will accompany him to New York City, where you will stay until I am able to create a long-term plan with Directors Blair and Nahuel. Do you accept your orders?"

"Yes Sir!"

Ryan nodded in satisfaction; he noted that even Jason seemed to be taking this seriously. "Good. Now go and fulfill them; dismissed." With that, the four agents went to prepare. As he left the room Jason turned and gave an order to Church, eyes discretely on Angela.

"Keep her kid safe."

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A/N: Yo readers, another chapter is finished! The team is on a mission, and in for a change of location. But what's this? The enemy may be closer than they expected, next time in "Original Days 2"!


	6. Still Fast and Furious

A/N: Warning! Warning! Extreme action ahead, proceed at your own risk! Also, I don't get any money at all from this; if there was a chance to make money, I'd be doing something silly like getting this made into a movie or something.

Original Days 2

Chapter Six: Still Fast and Furious

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_Time: 1523 hours_

_Location: New York City_

"I hate the rain."

Akira jumped in his seat at the sudden voice. He took his iPod's headphones off and turned his head to Jason. "Why? What's wrong with the rain?"

Jason kept his eyes on the road as he expertly navigated his way through the rain-soaked city streets. The steady pounding of the downpour made the silence of Jason's luxury car that much more obvious.

"Well, ever since my ninth birthday, all the worst events of my life have happened while it rained. It's kind of a bad omen to me." He flicked his gaze to his passenger to gauge his reaction. Akira leaned back into his seat and watched the rain fall through the passenger-side window; his headphones lay forgotten around his neck, and Jason could barely make out the lyrics to "Tomorrow Comes Today" coming from them. Jason sighed, running a hand through his wild hair. _"Man, I really need a haircut."_To Akira he said "Look, you can stop worrying. This beauty has more armor-plating than the president's car, and handles like an Aston Martin."

Akira looked at him oddly. "That's because it **is** an Aston Martin. Where did you get it anyway? I've never seen one quite like this."

Jason turned his head slightly to hide his smirk, making it look like he was observing the surroundings. "Well, let's just say that the last owner wasn't available to use it anymore."

"Who was the previous owner?"

"A Cougar named Mr. White." He reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror, but still caught the slight twitch of Akira's fingers at the name. He frowned, and was about to comment on it when the car's built-in phone beeped; he decided to wait until later to question his companion, and pressed the speaker on. "Jason here. Anything going on back there Fisk?"

The group was arranged in a specific manner, to provide maximum protection to their charge. Angela and Ana were driving at the front in Angela's black jeep; their vehicle was actually the smallest, and would be easiest to maneuver around if the other cars needed to make a break for it. Jason was roughly 60 yards behind them, carrying Akira Shiro; he was the best driver in the company, so he could make a break for it either backwards or forwards without a problem. Finally, Fisk was bringing up the rear in his red Ford Excursion; the biggest of the three vehicles, it could easily be used as a makeshift roadblock to stall pursuers.

Fisk's voice came over the line, clear as crystal despite the heavy rain. "I think we may be having some company soon. Several vehicles have stayed behind me for the last three intersections, and there's not much ground left to cover before we reach ShiroTech headquarters."

Jason nodded at this, before pressing another button. "Angela, you get all of that?"

Over in the jeep, Ana hurriedly began locking and loading the weaponry as Angela responded. "Yeah, we heard loud and clear. Preparing for-shit!" She jerked the wheel hard to the left; a second later a large blast ripped through the area she had just left, sending chunks of concrete and asphalt flying everywhere.

Her maneuver sent them careening into the next lane, directly into the path of an 18-wheeler. "Damn it!" She pulled the steering wheel sharply to the left and slammed her foot on the gas; the jeep swerved further to the left, into the exit lane

"Ana, contact the others and tell them we're out of it…Ana?" She looked over, to see Ana collapsed in her seat; a smear of blood adorned her forehead. Angela glanced and saw a matching smear on the dashboard. She cursed and kept on driving; knowing Jason, he probably knew already.

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Jason watched as Angela's vehicle swerved out of the way of the blast, seeing her get forced out of the chase. He looked ahead and saw an armored van with its back doors open; a soldier could be seen loading another round into his an RPG. _"Damn you rain._"

He switched his phone to Fisk's frequency as he began making evasive maneuvers. "Fisk, the enemy has engaged us; Angela and Ana were forced off of the road. Please tell me you're available for help."

Silence for a moment, and then Fisk's frantic voice answered. "Negative, I'm being swarmed back here!" Jason cursed as he dodged a rocket, almost colliding with another vehicle. "Hang on; I'm coming to help you."

"No! Your mission is to get Shiro to safety, forget me!"

The sound of gunfire filtered through the phone. Jason yelled "But you could die!"

"I can handle that! Just get going! Now!" Fisk cut off the connection from his side. Jason tightened his grip on the wheel, and for a moment Akira thought he was going to help anyway. Suddenly Jason relaxed his grip and flipped open a hidden compartment on the dashboard. To Akira he said two words.

"Buckle up, this is where the fun begins."

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Two people stood huddled under an umbrella by an entrance to Central Park. They had been busy all day looking for jobs, and had been caught outside when the rain had started coming down. One took a relaxed sip from his drink as he watched the raindrops hit the ground. Finally he turned to his partner.

"Hey, do you ever wonder why we're here?"

The other one stiffened and slowly turned to look at the speaker. "Shut up, just shut up."

"What? All I asked was-"

"I know what you asked, and I remember what happened last time you asked that! And I really don't feel like getting killed by a red-eyed freak! So don't ask that question!" His friend looked at him wearily. 'Man, you are really parano-"

A black Aston Martin roared by, narrowly avoiding the two arguers; close behind came a trio of white motorcycles, two white Chevy Avalanches, and a white van. A cacophony of gunfire momentarily drowned out the rain, before they disappeared into the park. The first of the two looked at his drink, before dumping it onto the ground. The other only had one thing to say.

"That car looked familiar."

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Jason dodged around a vending stand, before glancing at his side-mirror. The three motorcycles were closing in, and one of the trucks had disappeared. He swerved around a clump of trees and turned onto a bridge.

"Akira, listen to me. Open the compartment in front of you and get me a gun." Akira began to reach forward, until a sudden burst of gunfire across his windshield made him crouch back into his seat.

"Dammit!" Jason pulled to the right and crushed the aggressive biker between the car and the bridge wall. "There, now give me a gun!" Akira reached into the compartment and took out a Thunder 380 pistol. "Bigger!" He grabbed a Beretta 9000. "Bigger!" An M1911. "Just give me the biggest!" One of the Avalanches rammed them from behind, causing them to veer out of control and crash through a news-stand.

Jason grabbed the weapon being held out to him by Akira, quickly taking in that it was his Kel-Tec PLR-16 submachine gun. He thumbed the safety off and pressed a button in the hidden compartment. "Sheila, upload a map of Central Park and calculate the quickest route to ShiroTech." A computerized woman's voice came over the speakers. "Processing command." Jason nodded "Good, now if only we knew where the second truck went."

They drove onto the Hechscher Ballfields, and were suddenly rammed from the right side by the missing Avalanche. Jason struggled to keep all four wheels on the mud-slicked ground as the bigger vehicle hit the gas; Jason's stomach sank in realization that they were about to be pinned to a tree. He swung the gun to the window facing the truck, yelled at Akira to duck, and fired.

The bullets tore into the exposed grill of the truck, tearing apart the inner machinery. The truck didn't immediately stop, but it did slow down enough for the trapped car to get out from in front of it.

Jason breathed a sigh of relief as Akira looked back to see the truck crash into a grove of trees. "That was too close. Akira, do you see any of the others?"

He scanned around, and saw the remaining vehicles closing in. The remaining Avalanche was in the lead. "They're right on top of us!" Jason looked back for a second and swore. "Sheila, map, now!"

"Roger. Map of Central Park uploaded. Route to ShiroTech plotted."

"Good, put it on-screen." Out from the dashboard in front of Jason slid a thin computer screen, displaying a detailed map of their area. Jason looked for just a moment before veering sharply to the left, smashing Akira against his windshield. Jason paid him no mind and stepped on the gas; the car sped forward and smashed through another gate and onto 59th street. Akira rubbed where his head had hit the window, before looking at his "protector" in annoyance.

"Do you have to crash through everything?" Jason dodged incoming traffic as he responded "It's kept you alive so far!" Akira was about to respond when the sound of something landing on the roof caught their attention. Jason looked back to see that somehow the van had gotten nearly right behind them. His face paled. "Akira, get ready to take the wheel."

"What, why?" Two blades came through the ceiling, one nearly skewering Jason, before beginning to saw a hole in it. Jason unsheathed his wristblades and unbuckled. "Because we have company."

Part of the car roof was ripped off, revealing Asura standing on what was left. "Hi, nice to kill you today!" She slashed her swords down, intending to cut Akira in half, only for them both to be blocked. "I don't think so" Jason yelled, forcing her blades back; he then gathered his legs up beneath him and pushed off, landing beside her atop the car. Akira quickly moved over and took the wheel.

The two enemies eyed each other warily, sizing the other up. Suddenly Jason leaned forward and slashed at Asura's mid-section; she responded by blocking with the blade in her left hand, swinging the other to take his head off. He ducked and thrust both his blades forward, making her sidestep to avoid them. She growled and brought her swords down in an X motion; he brought his blade up to meet them, causing a clang of metal to sound out.

Akira made a sharp turn, causing the combatants to lose their balance for a moment. Asura took advantage of this and shoved forward with her whole strength, sending Jason stumbling onto his back. He rolled out of the way of a stomp and spun his legs around, forcing her to back away onto the trunk door. He flipped back onto his feet and advanced, swinging his weapons. She was forced to stay on the defensive, keeping up with his strikes but unable to launch any of her own.

"You know, I was expecting a bit more from you Naraka! Are you sure you're White's daughter?" She screamed and launched herself forward, breaking through Jason's attack and slashing across his shoulder. "My name is Asura White!"

"AAUGH!" He then received a crushing kick to the chest, sending him crashing onto the hood of the car. Akira started in shock, before looking up at the madly-grinning Asura, looking down at him from the hole in the roof. "Hello, little Akira. You die here!" She thrust her weapons forward, intending to drive them through the top of his skull. Thankfully, at that moment a black jeep drove up and shoved against them. The bloodthirsty Cat stumbled from the shock, waving her arms around trying to keep her balance; before she realized it though Jason had jumped back in front of her. He smirked victoriously before shoving; with a final scream Asura fell off the vehicle, hitting the ground with a bone-breaking crunch.

Jason didn't wait to see if she got back up or not, instead reclaiming his spot behind the wheel. He looked to the right and smiled at the jeep. Angela smiled back and formed up in front of them. If anyone had been looking they would have seen Asura get back up and rejoin with the enemy group, taking one of the motorcycles.

Akira turned to Jason. "How long until we reach my building? I can't take much more of this." Jason reloaded his gun and rolled down his windshield. We just need to make it through this upcoming tunnel, then we'll be less than a mile from safety." He clicked on the car-phone. "Fisk, where are you?"

Fisk turned from looking for them to the speaker-phone. "I took care of the one's attacking me and am now at ShiroTech. The security forces are notified and awaiting your arrival."

Jason glanced at the deep cut in his shoulder and addressed his passenger. "Do you have any medical facilities?" He got a nod yes. "Okay Fisk, we'll be there soon. Have something…medic-ish ready."

As they entered the tunnel, a volley of gunfire ricocheted off the car. Jason groaned before grabbing his gun. "They're really starting to bug me." Akira gaped at him. "But they're behind us! How do you expect to hit anything?" Jason grinned. "I'll handle that, just make sure I don't hit anything." He spun the wheel and threw the car into reverse, sending them into a spin; suddenly they were driving backwards, and the Organization vehicles were in front of them.

He stuck his arm out the driver's-side window and opened fire, quickly turning one of the motorcycles into a flaming wreck. Seemingly ignoring the return fire, he next took out the wheels of the van, sending it crashing into the tunnel-wall; a click signaled that the mag was spent.

"Jason, the tunnel's about to split!"

Jason hit the brakes and spun the wheel; the car rotated 180 degrees back around less than an inch from the wall, the side-mirror on Jason's side breaking off. He hit the gas and sped off, narrowly avoiding getting smashed against the tunnel wall. The Avalanche leaned heavily into the turn, but made it through fine; Asura followed right behind, eyes glinting in the artificial light of the tunnel.

Jason swerved the car left and right, avoiding both bullets and other cars, when he finally saw the tunnel exit ahead. _"Well nut jobs, it's been fun, but I have places to be." _As they left the close confines of the tunnel he pressed harder on the gas, milking every ounce of power he could. Suddenly a loud burst was heard, and the car veered out of control for a moment before Jason wrestled it back onto the correct path.

"Shit, blown tire." The gates to the ShiroTech private parking-lot come into view. Akira looked back to see the enemy truck slow down and pull away. "He-hey, they're giving up!" Jason glanced back and scowled. "One of them isn't. Hang on, and watch this." He pressed a button.

Behind them, and getting closer, Asura growled in frustration. _"They're making this a lot harder than it has to be! I just want to carve him up into little pieces!"_20 feet; 10 feet; five feet; Asura drew a gun and prepared to fire, when a grappling hook shot from the back of the car and latched onto her chest armor. "What!?"

The car suddenly put on a new burst of speed, dragging the screaming Cat off of the motorcycle and along the ground behind it. The car sped through the gateway, dragging Asura in just before it closed; once in Jason spun the car around and disengaged the lock on the line, sending Asura flying through the air before crashing against a parked car. "Gaah!"

Jason stopped the car, jumped out, and ran at the struggling to her feet terrorist. She looked up in time to catch a boot on the nose, breaking it and sending a spray of blood into the air. Jason followed up with a knee to the gut that caused her to puke blood all over his shirt. She tried raising her arms to defend herself only for them both to get dislocated for her trouble. He knocked her onto her back and began raining his foot down on her; he paid no notice to her cries of pain, nor to the blood beginning to pool on the ground.

Suddenly something rammed into him from the side, forcing him away from the bloody mess. "Jason, stop this! She surrendered!" Jason growled and shrugged out of Fisk's grasp.

"Why did you stop me!?"

Fisk motioned for Angela and the security guards to take the barely-conscious enemy to the infirmary before answering. "Jason listen to me; we don't kill enemies who surrender, we are better than that. And besides that, she is obviously a high-ranking member of the Organization, she may have vital Intel!"

"She's a menace, and needs to die!"

"**After**we get what we can, and only then! We don't kill the helpless!" By this point the two were nearly nose to nose; Ana had helped Akira out of the car, and the two were currently watching them go at it. Jason snorted in annoyance, before turning away and heading for the pair of onlookers; as he left he said something that sent chills racing down Fisk's spine, because it wasn't the first time he had heard it.

"If her death benefits everyone, why does it matter **how** she dies?"

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A/N: Oww, my fingers hurt after writing all of that. What do ya'll think? I bet none of you expected the chase to end like that! Here we see the beginnings of a rift form between Fisk and Jason. Who is right? Is either right? This is a question that has plagued mankind since before history, and I doubt little-old-me will come up with an adequate answer.

Also, I want everyone to know that I'm going to be taking a short break from this story in order to write a short story in honor of this most scary of holidays, Halloween. Expect it to be published on Halloween. Have a nice day!


	7. Lucy Visits the Company

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters Fisk Black, Ryan Tobs, Tom Erikson, Lucy Erikson, James Black, or anything else from the phenomenal webcomic Better Days. I do not earn any money from this.

A/N: Yo, my faithful readers! Here it is, a new chapter! Not much to say about this one, except it's going to be quite different from the last one.

Original Days 2

Chapter 7: Lucy Visits the Company

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_Previously in Original Days 2…_

"_The Adversary will come again."_

"_Listen, Honey, you need to stop this. The guy tried to kill you, your brother, and your cousin! Not to mention the whole 'blow up the capital' thing he had going!"_

"…_it's not fair his life had to end up the way it did!"_

"_If her death benefits everyone, why does it matter __**how**__ she dies?"_

…_and now, it continues._

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Lucy waited in the receptionist's office, a ball of nervousness forming in her stomach. She didn't know why she was nervous, it wasn't like she was going to see a stranger. This was Ryan! Her brother's old friend, their stepbrother for that matter! They got together and sang karaoke every couple of months.

"_And yet,"_ Lucy thought to herself as her gaze once more swept the room. _"He's also one of the three people in charge of a group that most wouldn't hesitate to call terrorists." _That was the reason Lucy came to for the cause of the butterflies in her stomach. Oftentimes she could ignore it, laugh it off, but when it came down to it, professionally killing people seemed to be her family's fate.

"Mr. Tobs will see you now" the secretary told Lucy, who sighed once and picked up her purse from the ground. With a quick thank-you she stood up and walked into the office.

Stopping by the door, she gazed about the room, impressed with how bare and utilitarian it was. Three of the four walls were composed of one-way mirrors allowing Ryan to keep an eye on his agents without them seeing back. The fourth wall was a window looking out over the city; light streamed in from the mid-day sun, illuminating the simple grey granite tiling.

Her gaze moved to the large mahogany desk to her left, and beyond that to the white-furred Cat seated behind it, groaning as he rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. Turning a bit to Ryan's right, she smiled and nodded to Church. "Hey Church, it's been a while."

Church nodded back, smiling softly. "Yeah, it has been. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about us unlucky company-folk." Lucy shrugged her shoulders, before turning her focus back to Ryan.

"Hello Ryan, thank you for seeing me on such short notice." She stopped and looked at him more closely; his light-grey suit was wrinkled and had several coffee-stains on it, dark bags had appeared under his eyes, and he was beginning to develop a slouch. And he stank. "Uh, Ryan, are you okay? You look terrible."

Draining his cup of coffee, the director held it out to Church, who took it and left the room, before turning his attention to his guest. "In all honesty Sis, no I'm not okay. I have been kept busy all day and last night trying to cover for more of Jason's uncontrollable actions; I have both the other directors and the mayor of New York City himself breathing down my neck for his head, and unless something else happens in the next three days to shake things up, I may have to give it to them. All I can say is thank whatever gods there might be that the press can't get involved with us."

At this point Church came back in with another steaming cup of coffee, which the beleaguered Cat took with gratitude. Taking a sip, he leaned back in his seat and fixed Lucy with a curious gaze. "Enough about my problems though, what kind of business brings you here?"

As the two company-men looked at her Lucy began to feel a bit bad for bothering them at such a time, especially for what she had come for. They were just some bad dreams after all, right? Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Lucy returned Ryan's gaze as best she could. "I would like permission to go to the archives; I need to speak with Mr. Faunt about something."

Ryan quirked an eyebrow and shared a puzzled look with his bodyguard. "Lucy…you know you can meet with Faunt whenever you want. As family you have my implicit authorization to go anywhere here. Although," he said, taking another sip of his drink. "I would appreciate knowing why you must speak with him."

"It's…a private matter, sorry."

Ryan stared blankly at her, face sinking into a practiced mask. A minute passed, and then two. Lucy began thinking he would order her to leave when finally he cleared his throat and said "very well. I hope you find what you are looking for."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Lucy turned to go, the weight on her chest somewhat lifted. Just as she was walking through the door though she turned and looked back at Ryan. "Thank you…brother." And then she was gone. Ryan looked where she had been and smiled, a sad, guilty smile, before turning back to his growing pile of work.

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Running his hand through his graying hair, Mr. Faunt looked over the adoption form handed to him by the beautiful Cat standing before him. As his eyes finished absorbing what was on the paper he sighed and reached for where he kept his cigarettes, forgetting for a moment that Angela had finally gotten him to kick the habit. So instead he readjusted his glasses and looked up at Lucy.

"Who else have you shown this to?"

"Just my husband. Aside from the three of us no one knows about it."

Hearing this, the elderly Bat began to look at her critically. It was generally known by friends and family alike that the Black twins never kept things from each other. For her to keep anything from Fisk, especially something as big as this, she had to have an extremely good reason.

Lucy must have guessed the question behind his stare, as a moment later she got up and began pacing nervously, obviously troubled by the conversation.

"I…don't know why I kept it a secret from him. We've never kept secrets from each other before. It just seemed…cruel to me, to tell him. I, I mean, what am I supposed to do, tell him we killed someone who could have been our brother!? Someone who was a link to Dad? And...I didn't want to hurt him anymore than he already was."

She stopped her pacing and looked at him, uncertainty and grief on her face. Faunt looked at her bloodshot eyes, her lanky and unkempt hair, the dark bags under her eyes, and realized just how much anguish she was going through over this. In a way, he could sympathize with her. When James died, he'd had to choose whether or not to tell Sheila about her husband's real job, and the true cause of his death; in the end he hadn't, but to this day he would sometimes find himself wondering if it was the right choice.

With these thoughts in mind, it came as no surprise to Faunt when Lucy began speaking again, nor was the subject a surprise to him.

"Lately I've been having these…dreams. Or more like nightmares I suppose. About White… and how his being around could have changed things." She sat down and sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable with talking to someone about this. Suddenly all of the pieces clicked for Faunt, and he gazed at Lucy with new understanding.

"You want to know why Will didn't stay with your mom. Why he was William **Hite **and not William **Black** when you met him?" She nodded yes, not trusting her voice right then. "Well, I'm sorry to say this, but I don't know. Neither James nor Will ever told us where that name came from, or what its significance was. I can, however, give some advice on discovering why things turned out the way they did; ask your mom. If anyone would know, it would be her."

Lucy nodded and lowered her head, contemplating this. After a moment of silence she stood and looked at Faunt, resolve burning in her eyes.

"Well then, looks like my next stop is Florida."

* * *

A/N: Yep, Lucy's back, and she's a woman on a mission! Next time, in Original Days 2:

"_What makes Jason so appealing to my Father is that he doesn't have a breaking point; because, you see, he's already broken!"_


	8. The Interrogation

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Better Days, or Better Days itself for that matter. I also don't make any money from this, but I wish I did!

Original Days 2

Chapter 8: the Interrogation

* * *

_Previously, in Original Days 2…_

"_The Adversary will come again."_

"_Reckless fool."_

_Jason snorted in annoyance, before turning away and heading for the pair of onlookers; as he left he said something that sent chills racing down Fisk's spine, because it wasn't the first time he had heard it._

"_If her death benefits everyone, why does it matter __**how**__ she dies?"_

…_and now, the present._

* * *

Fisk stood calmly before the one-way mirror, looking into the testing area they had modified into an interrogation room. Five days had passed since the team of agents had arrived at the ShiroTech headquarters; five days of waiting, of tension, of unsettled emotions as they waited for Asura to recover enough to undergo an interrogation. An interrogation that Fisk, as the senior agent on the assignment, would have to administer to the captive. And so he stood there, clearing his mind of all emotion; becoming the cold, unassailable tormentor necessary for this.

The sharp clacking of steel-toed boots reached his ears, as Jason strode up from behind him to stand at his left side. Fisk tensed slightly, wary of his cousin. For the past several days they had been at loggerheads over what to do with Asura; Jason contended that keeping her alive and around would merely be adding another bulls-eye on the building, and increase the enemies' attempts at infiltration; Fisk argued back that keeping her alive would allow them to use her as a bargaining chip with the Organization, should the need ever arise.

It seemed however that Jason had decided to give his cousin a break, as he remained silent, merely nodding his head once to Fisk. Fisk nodded back, before returning his attention to nothing. Minutes rolled by, the silence broken only by the whirr of the machinery around them.

Finally the doors leading into the room banged open, as two of Akira's security guards carried in the limp body of Asura. The two agents turned their heads and watched as she was carried into the room beyond the glass; Jason however quickly averted his gaze.

"I've never watched an interrogation before" he remarked dryly to Fisk. "Although that's only the politically correct term, isn't it?"

Fisk sighed softly, running his hand through his hair as he thought. "That all depends on how cooperative she is. If it comes right down to it…well, it comes right down to it."

At this point the two guards came back from the interrogation room, nodding to the agents before positioning themselves to the sides of the door into the area. Fisk exhaled slowly, before flinching as a hand slapped his back. He turned to look, to see Jason looking at him with a smirk on his face.

"Hey, calm down Fish, you look like you're the one about to be interrogated!"

Fisk allowed a small smile to flash across his face, before frowning and turning to watch Asura waking up through the thick glass. "Maybe, just maybe. Interr…no, torture is an awful thing. The tormenting, the abuse of another life can ruin you, if you are not strong enough. It is not something you should **ever** look forward to doing."

With this bit of wisdom said Fisk squared his shoulders and strode away to the door. Jason moved back to the window and watched as Asura looked up at him groggily from where she was tied to a chair. He frowned in annoyance when Fisk started speaking and no sound could be heard. _"Damn, sound-proof. Oh well, I can read lips anyway!"_

* * *

Fisk quietly entered the room, shutting the door firmly before turning and looking at Asura. She looked like hell, to put it mildly. She had been dressed in a simple white sleeveless tunic and trousers, with the occasional splotch of red where she had struggled and hurt herself. Her hair was matted and stringy, and had faded to an ugly grey in color. Both bare arms looked slightly off, as a result of being so violently torn from their sockets by Jason.

Her reddened, bruised eyes slowly found their way to him, as he strode forward and took the seat opposite from her across the table.

"Hello, Asura. You are wondering where you are, yes?"

Blank, empty eyes stared at him for a moment, until a wicked smile stretched across her beaten face, ripping her torn lips anew and dyeing them a bright red. "Well, well, well; Fisk Black, the Hero of the Company. I should feel so honored to meet you."

He arched an eyebrow at the title. "Strange, I don't recall anyone in the company ever calling me that."

Grinning even wider, the captured terrorist leaned back and stretched out her arms as best she could while they were shackled to her chair-arms. "Oh, you don't understand. That's what my soldiers call you. The downside to hiring the best of the best is that they always form some retarded form of respect for their enemies. Silly, isn't it?"

His eyes narrowed as he pondered the information she had indirectly provided him about her organization; its soldiers could be reasonable. _"She had also revealed something about herself, strange."_ Realizing that she was waiting for a response, he shrugged his shoulders. "They're people just like me, fighting for their goals; it is just unfortunate our ideals are different."

Asura let her arms drop, and for the briefest moment Fisk swore he could of seen disappointment flash in her eyes. "You're such an idiot, Fisky. What do you arrogant Americans think it is we want, anyway? Money? Control? Death? Means to an end, all of them! It's all just a means to an end!"

Fisk watched as she brought herself under control, the blood from her torn lips dripping down her chin. "What end" he asked, thinking he wouldn't have to do anything too bad after all. _"She obviously didn't inherit White's tact and intelligence."_

Hearing him ask this her gaze snapped to him from where it had drifted to the viewing-window. "What end? What do you mean, 'what end'? There's only one end, Fisky, one end everyone works towards. Or at least, that's how it should be."

"What do you mean by that?"

She tilted her head and seemed to think of the question; however Fisk had already realized he'd been lead into asking that. _"Damn, she's good."_After a moment she looked to him, smile back in place. "You know what's funny? How morality today is sooo…unmoral, and backwards. It's all based on a resentment you see, a resentment of those with power. The weak masses resented those few with a true will to power, and crafted moral laws to force the powerful down, to make them part of the little herd, and not its sheperds."

Fisk sighed softly and shook his head. White had spoken something similar to this soon before he had revealed his intentions. Only now Fisk felt that he had a response. "You're wrong, just like your father was. If what you say is true than why would such things as courage, generosity, and strength be revered as virtues?" He thought he had her beat, and was prepared to steer the conversation to more relevant topics, when her smile dropped completely.

"How often have people complained about you being a know-it-all when you correct them? How often are you ridiculed as a show-off whenever you accomplish something others could not? Has it escaped your attention that whenever a high-profile figure does something 'generous', the common folk complain about attention-grabbing? Other than for people who are **payed** for that sort of thing, when was any form of heroics celebrated? When there was a disaster, one strong enough to shatter the moral chains, however briefly, and force people to **step forward!**"

She stopped and glared at her audience, eyes flicking back and forth between Fisk and the window. Fisk kept himself from following her gaze, instead nodding in sudden understanding. "I see, so you and your organization are anarchists." She stopped her eye-flickering and glared at him, a harsh growl escaping from her throat.

"Don't compare me to those idiots! Anarchists are wimps, people who've given up hope for a working society. We don't want to eradicate all countries, we want to enlighten them! Force the people out of their decrepit husks of herd-morality and ethics and into real **responsibility **over their own lives! And I don't care how many we'll have to force to the breaking-point to accomplish that! It must be done!"

Over the course of her tirade her body had grown more animated and wild, to the point where Fisk actually grew faintly worried that she would break out of her bonds. At the end of it she collapsed back into her seat, breath ragged from the exertion. Standing up he moved over and checked them. She flinched slightly when he grabbed her wrists, but otherwise stayed still. As he worked the handcuffs over he carefully kept one eye on Asura, not trusting her to keep from trying anything. It seemed unnecessary however, as her attention seemed entirely focused on licking up the blood seeping from her torn lips.

"So, what's your breaking point?"

Fisk almost started at the sudden question. "What?"

She giggled wildly, fixing him with an "are you an idiot?" look. "I asked you what your breaking point is. What would be such a horrible loss, such an awful source of pain to lose, that you would do absolutely **anything** to keep it safe?" She smiled, showcasing her snow-white teeth, stained at the moment with her blood. "Hmm, maybe it's that simply delicious looking wife of yours, Elizabeth? I understand why she's your wife, I wouldn't mind getting **my** hands on her; making the little Mouse squeak would be **heaven**!"

"Shut up" Fisk ordered, slowly rising back from where he'd been kneeling by her. She payed him no mind however, and continued giggling horrifically. "Or maybe it's that cute little daughter of yours, Janie! Yes, that's it!" His fist collided with her face, sending blood, saliva, and a tooth spewing from her open mouth; still she didn't stop. "She's a bit young now of course, but in a few years and the proper groomin-"

"Shut up!" He ripped the cuffs off of her and lifted her body up, slamming it down onto the table. "Not another word!"

"With the proper grooming, I could turn her into a perfectly disposable toy! Or maybe if she's really good, she can be myaach-ch!" She thrashed about, struggling for breath as Fisk squeezed tighter on her throat. "I said SHUT UP!" he yelled at her, shaking her and hitting her head against the table. Her feet kicked out, toes curling as muscles were deprived of oxygen.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her struggles slowly growing weaker and slower. "P-please…s-st-stop." Hearing this plea Fisk dropped the pressure and let go of her neck; he backed away slightly as she curled onto her side, shuddering and gasping for breath. Once her breathing was mostly back to normal he went back over and grabbed her by the hair, roughly forcing her back into her seat. As he re-cuffed her, Fisk spoke in little more than a whisper.

"If you ever threaten my family again, I will kill you."

He stepped away and began to head for the door. Asura watched with bloodshot eyes as he reached for the door handle, before shouting out to him "our organization is very interested in your cousin".

Unable to hold in the surprise, Fisk whirled back around to look at her now smirking form. "What do you mean, 'interested'?"

Asura's smirk grew wider, as she took a moment to savor the confusion in his voice. "What I mean is, my father sees a great deal of potential in your violent cousin. What makes Jason so appealing to my Father is that he doesn't have a breaking point; because, you see, he's already broken!"

* * *

Fisk didn't stay to listen to her manic laughter, shutting the door and activating its locking mechanism. He turned to see Jason by the observation window, looking at him curiously. "What did she say? The room is soundproof, I couldn't hear anything."

Fisk said nothing as he continued to look at his cousin, Asura's words ringing in his mind. What she had said couldn't be true, could it? He carefully studied Jason's softly smirking face, looking for any kind of resemblance to White; any of his coldness, any of his ruthlessness. But no, there was just his cousin; his joking, friendly, reckless, fun-loving cousin. Nothing at all was alike between the two. _"But then…why didn't he stop me when I attacked Asura?"_

Shaking these thoughts from his head, he returned Jason's smile with a weary one of his own. "Nothing; she said nothing important. Let's leave her in there for now, keep her on her toes thinking I'll be coming back."

Jason nodded in approval at the idea, grin growing wider. "Good idea Fish. I'll stay here for a bit as well; see if I can read her movements for anything." Fisk agreed with the plan and left, his soft footfalls disappearing as the door shut behind him. Once he was gone Jason sighed softly and ran his hand through his raven-black locks. His eyes stayed on the shut door a moment longer before switching to the interrogation room; he licked his lips in nervousness, before starting to move towards it.

The two guards shared a strangely knowing look as the dark Cat reached out and typed in the unlock command. A thousand thoughts raced through Jason's mind as he turned the handle and pushed open the door. As it creaked open Asura's dark eyes looked up from where she was slumped in her seat; a wicked smile stretched its way once more across her face, and with a scratchy voice spoke to the dark figure in the doorway.

"Hello…Powerseeker!"

* * *

A/N: Things continue to smolder softly as Fisk seeks answers. Meanwhile, a battle begins…one for the fate of Jason's very soul. Next time in Original Days 2:

"_He is slowly dying, and we are the only people who can help."_


	9. The Encroaching Darkness

A/N: I don't own Better Days or Original Life. I only do this because I like to write, and I think these are good stories.

Original Days 2

Chapter Nine: The Encroaching Darkness

* * *

His blood-red eyes stared at her intently, boring into her own with their intensity. Shutting the door he strode forward, black coat billowing out behind him slightly, until he was standing a mere two feet away from her bound form.

"What do you mean by Powerseeker? And what do you mean I'm already broken?"

Leaning back Asura slowly ran her eyes up and down Jason's form, her smile growing wider. Impatient, Jason grabbed her hair and slammed her head against the table, eliciting a pained grunt. "What do you mean by Powerseeker!?"

Spitting out a glob of blood and saliva, the prisoner looked at him happily. "It means exactly what it sounds like, little Jason. You seek power, you hunger for control; and in doing so, you hope to destroy the threats to that which is precious to you. What a noble, praiseworthy endeavor!" She threw her head back and laughed, before another slam against the table shut her up.

"There'll be none of that, **Terrorist**. My cousin may have been content with his philosophical chat, but I'm not quite as easy to please." Raising her head off the dented table, she fixed him in place with an annoyed stare. "Why don't you just say what you're actually thinking? That you're not quite as **weak**as Fisky was to stop. Don't worry, I'm the only one to hear, just let it out!"

Ignoring her accusation, he began to pace behind her, making her have to constantly switch which shoulder she was looking over. "How many members of the Organization are there? How many countries give you sanctuary?" She shrugged her shoulders, seemingly unconcerned with the questions. "Oh, a couple thousand; or maybe a couple tens of thousands. I don't really keep track of personnel stuff like that; I'm more into hands-on stuff." She craned her neck straight back, getting a perfectly upside-down look at him. Slowly she licked her lips, before sending him a wink. "I'd love to show you what it is I like to have my hands on. Heheheheh."

He stopped his pacing and shuddered, backing away a few steps. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not attracted to the underage." He cocked his head a bit, thinking. "Or to terrorists for that matter. Now answer the other question."

Grinning broadly at his discomfort, she eased back into her chair and stared back ahead. "Well, if you really want to know. Let's see; Russia, Albania, Andorra, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Belgium, Bosnia, Croatia, Denmark, France, Germany, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Serbia, the United Kingdom, Afghanistan, Bhutan, Cambodia, Hong Kong, India, Iran, Iraq, Japan, North Korea, Burma, Qatar, Vietnam, Australia, Egypt, Kenya, Rwanda, Greenland, Bolivia, Brazil, and Venezuela. Impressed?"

A fist crashed into her face, knocking her chair sideways onto the ground. Jason bent down and grabbed her neck with one hand, lifting her straining body into the air, before delivering three fists into her gut. "DON'T LIE TO ME!" He delivered another crushing blow to her gut, eliciting a choked cry of pain. "You answered too easily for it to be the truth!" Another blow and she coughed crimson blood onto his face. He dropped her back to the ground and stepped away, wiping the red fluid off his face hurriedly. For several seconds she just fought to catch her breath, before looking up at her tormentor with a taunting grin. "You know, if you and your cousin keep this up, you're going to turn me into a sadomasochist!" Asura threw her head back and laughed, prompting an elbow to crash down onto her forehead, slamming it down against the table.

"I don't have the time or patience for your damn mind games terrorist! I want to know your plans!"

Asura weakly lifted her head from the dented table, crimson beginning to stain her forehead. "W-why do you insist…that we have pl-plans?" Jason snarled and drew his fist back, ready to break the little Cat's face, before changing his mind and beginning to pace the room. "All terrorists want something, and you've already told Fisk what you want. So surely you have a plan of some kind to achieve it, you have too!"

Quirking an eyebrow, Asura pushed her chair just a bit towards Jason. "Oh? And why do you call me a terrorist, hmm? Actually, what would you even define as a terrorist?" Now, Fisk or Angela or Ryan would have seen the trap thrown at them here; but as has already been established, Jason is not quite as smart as them. In fact, there have been times Fisk even questioned his high school diploma. "That's easy; a terrorist inspires terror and horror to achieve a goal. They don't care who gets hurt, or what they have to do, as long as...as...oh God." Jason looked as if he had been struck physically; staggering, he reached out and gripped the other chair for support.

Asura wasn't done with him though. "You see, we aren't that different, not really. I work towards avenging the death of my mother, who died in the 9-11 attacks, as well as to insure no others have to die that way. You, on the other hand, rage out against the world for the cruel, inevitable death…of Constantine." His eyes looked up into hers, not really surprised she knew that name. "It-it's not fair. He…he wasn't even born when it happened!" Screaming in rage, he picked up the metal chair and threw it at the mirror, smashing it and sending thousands of cracks running through the glass. Breathing heavily from the sudden exertion, he looked at his reflection, fractured into hundreds of pieces by his loss of control. A shadow looked back at him, crimson orbs of fire glaring at him. Shaken by the image, Jason barely payed any heed as Asura began to speak once again.

"This is what I meant by broken, Powerseeker. You have broken free from the chains of slave-morality; of right and wrong, good and evil. They have only as much hold on you as you allow them to. You're driven by Love, and anything done in love is beyond good and evil." She stopped and licked her red lips; seeing he made no move to interrupt her, she continued, seemingly almost embarrassed. "Fisk has…some understanding of all this. His sufferings have given him perspective; for example, allowing him to see the truth of that great poison, Christianity. And yet he recoils from the new path before him, sticking to the old morals with the excuse that they are needed. Of course, as soon as he's out in the field and lining up his sights on the target's head, these 'needed' morals go right out the window. What hypocrisy!"

Jason turned from the broken glass to look at her, eyes unreadable. "Why?" He began walking forward, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me!?"

Asura looked down for a moment in seeming thought, before looking back up and making Jason stop in his tracks. The cruel, vindictive grin on her face was gone completely; in its place was the face of a sick, tired 17 year old girl, who had seen and done far too much. And suddenly Jason felt the last 10 minutes crash down upon him, making him let out a weak cry of shame. He held his right hand up to his face, eyes locked on the stains of blood on it. And then she began speaking, drawing his attention back. "We want the same thing Jason, the best for our precious people. And the real tragedy is that sometimes, something comes along and rips them from us just as we've made everything perfect. My brother and I know this, have experienced this, and so will you with Constantine. He is slowly dying, and we are the only people who can help."

Jason stared at the bound Cat in tired, weary annoyance. Slowly he picked up the fallen chair and set it back up, before collapsing into it. "Do you really expect me to believe your organization could help? Would help? I'm not that stupid."

Before either could say or do any more, Jason's cellphone began to ring, and he snapped out of his daze. Standing up from the seat he took his out and answered; it was Fisk. _"Get out of there. Now."_The call ended, and Jason quickly shoved the device back into its pocket. Sparing Asura one last weak glare, he left the room, moving aside as Angela went in with medical supplies. As she walked by Angela shot him an upset glare, to which he responded with a look of guilt; and then she was gone, into the interrogation room to make sure Asura's wounds wouldn't kill her.

"_Wounds you gave her"_ a small, dark voice whispered in the back of his mind. Jason ignored the voice as he strode towards the exit, until Fisk caught his eye. He stopped, and for a long moment the cousins just looked at each other, waging a silent battle of wills. Finally Jason shrugged and put on a sheepish grin. "You were right; she doesn't have anything important to say."

Fisk waited until Jason was just stepping through the doorway before saying anything. "I suggest you make the restrooms your next stop." Jason paused for a moment and looked back, grinning. "Why, do I have that much blood on me? Heheheheh." Fisk said nothing else, and so Jason left the area, continuing to chuckle softly. Fisk sighed and fell back into a chair; sometimes, he really didn't know what to do with that guy.

* * *

Jason stepped into the restroom and looked around, whistling softly in appreciation of the impressive expenses put into it. He smiled quickly at his reflection in the marble walls, before heading over to the stainless steel wash-basins and turning on the water. Adjusting it to just the way he liked it, Jason began to scrub away at the blood on his hands, humming a merry tune. As the water in the basin began to turn red he began to scrub harder at his hands. Reaching over he made the water a bit hotter, and added more soap to his barely-red hands.

Chucling quietly as a bubble floated up and popped against his nose, he paid no attention to the water falling from the sink to the floor; neither did the steam rising up from the sink register in his mind as he hummed louder. Suddenly he lifted his clean hands from the scalding water, every drop of Asura's blood washed away in the steaming water. All Jason saw though was crimson, and with a scream he plunged them back into the water. Tears of pain went unheeded as he furiously scrubbed at them, desperate to get rid of the stain. A searing pain stabbed into his hands, making him flinch and pull them out of the red water to look at them again, only to see more of the stain.

He cried out in terror and stumbled back, as he realized with horror that he had torn into his own hands; the water rushing from the faucet seemed drowned out as his fresh blood dribbled down onto the tiled floor, staining it with his life. A sick feeling slithered through him like a serpent, forcing him to run to the nearest stall. Dropping to his knees, he proceeded to empty his stomach of its contents, barely even making it inside the toilet bowl. This went on for several minutes, each heave weaker and with less vomit, until nothing more came up. He dry-heaved three times, before collapsing to the side of the toilet.

The last thought to cross his mind as the encroaching darkness took him was _"I guess…I wasn't strong enough…"_

* * *

A/N: I have nothing to say. Next time in Original Days 2:

_Ana sat down in exhaustion, leaning forward in a near-faint. Fisk walks over and hands the panting Dog a bottle of water, which she gratefully accepts. After several large gulps of the cool liquid she looks up at her superior with a concerned expression._

"_Sir? Why is Jason always so…focused?"_


	10. Innocence Requiem

A/N: Jay Naylor, I am not. Yoda impersonator, I am! No money do I make!

Original Days 2

Chapter 10: Innocence Requiem

* * *

_Previously, in Original Days 2…_

_Suddenly the baby Bat let out a harsh cough, and tiny flecks of red appeared on the blanket. Jason's hands clenched into fists at the sight, and not for the first time he cursed the world, and the cruelty in it._

"_It-it's not fair. He…he wasn't even born when it happened!"_

…_and now, the present._

* * *

The tall figure let a soft sigh escape past his lips as he eased down onto the "so comfortable it should be outlawed" couch. Grabbing the remote control beside him, he turned on the 40' TV in front of him and began to leisurely flip through the channels. A smile spread across his face as he came upon a day-long _Dexter's Laboratory _marathon, popping open a can of Root Beer and settling in. He let his mind wander, thinking of all the things he has to be grateful for: his health, two loving kids, a fulfilling career, and more money than he could ever know what to do with. Yes, the giant of a person thought as he chuckled at Dee Dee's antics, life was good.

Almost good enough, in fact, to make Mr. White forget about his lost love. Forget that he would never again see her beautiful face smile at him lovingly, or feel her soft hands ease the ache in his overworked back, or hear her quiet voice calling out his name as they made love. Mr. White's flesh hand curled into a fist, and not for the first time he cursed the world, and the cruelty in it.

A mechanized door behind and to the left of White slid open; White flinched as the air seemed to get thicker, as with slow, measured steps something dark strode over. The cyborg Cougar closed his eyes and steadied his breathing as a robotic claw smoothed out the wrinkles in the sleeve covering his mechanical arm. The claw then moved up and traced over the Cougar's face, stopping momentarily at the artificial skin used to replace that which degraded while he had been dead.

"You look well, Father. I am sorry that I could not be there when you were resurrected, but the plan required me to be elsewhere."

White sighed softly as the high-pitched mechanical voice of his son echoed through the large meeting-room. "Do not concern yourself with apologies, Deva, it was unavoidable. On a related subject however, I have several thoughts. I have finished reviewing the plan, and find it praiseworthy. A better one I could not create myself." The darkness beside White bowed its head slightly in acceptance, and so he continued. "I do, however, have some concerns over your sister, Asura. Reviewing the security tapes from the interrogations, I find her to be rather…unstable. Is she reliable?"

Deva took a moment to consider the question, dagger-like fingers tapping against his side.

"She is emotional, and her understanding of the true reality requires much refining; however, I find her unique talent in upsetting and unbalancing enemies to more than make up for these inadequacies."

"I see." White stood up from the couch and wandered to their right, past the obsidian business desk, to gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. The darkened, rain-filled New York City skyline glared back at him, the brightly-lit windows of the skyscrapers like hundreds and thousands of accusing eyes. A moment later Deva joined him in his silent surveying; and together as father and son they looked out over the "Capital of the World."

After several minutes Deva turned to face his father and bowed. "Forgive me, but I must go. I am late for to a meeting." White absentmindedly waved him away, and so Deva left, slipping on a pair of synthskin gloves. White continued to stare out the window, a pleased smile adorning his face. Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

Ana hurriedly ducked under a butterfly kick, before squatting down and trying to sweep kick her opponent's legs out from under them. The assailant jumped over the kick, spun in mid-air, and landed behind the startled Dog, before delivering a palm thrust into the small of her back. She stumbled forward, before turning and trying to hit with a roundhouse kick. Her opponent blocked the kick with the palm of his gloved hand, before tightening into a vice-like grip and pulling. She cried out in surprise and stumbled forward, straight into a gloved fist.

"Your movements are too textbook, too predictable Ana." Jason through her back into the center of the sparring ring, waiting for her to shakily get back to her feet before continuing with his lecture. "You need to get into the fight, flow with it! Now defend yourself!" With no more warning he began a complex series of attacks, quickly forcing the poor girl into a panicked defensive.

Fisk and Angela watched from the viewing bleachers as Jason "trained" his apprentice in the ancient art of "getting your ass handed to you." The day after they had arrived at the monolithic skyscraper, Akira had shown them to the training area used by his private security forces, saying that as long as they were there they were pretty much his private security anyway. Every day since then, for three hours Jason would spar against Ana, determined to make sure she could handle herself than she did in Hong Kong.

Sometimes Akira himself would come by and spar with Jason, to relax from a hard day's work. It was here that Fisk found out another surprising fact about his cousin: he could swordfight like he'd been doing it his entire life. When asked about this Jason merely responded that he'd spent some time in Japan after leaving the military, and thought it looked cool.

"_That's classic Jason for you,"_ Fisk thought as a particularly vicious elbow connected to Ana's chest. _"He'll see an ancient and revered way of fighting and reduce it to looking cool."_ He flinched at the gasp of pain the younger agent let out, and refocused on the two combatants. Ana was dressed in khaki shorts and a yellow sleeveless crop top, looser than most to allow for easier breathing. She was currently bent forward, hands on her knees, panting raggedly like every breath was her last.

On the opposite side of the sparring arena, Jason wore a dark-red muscle shirt and black Keikogi pants. Black leather gloves covered his ripped and scalded hands; these were held up level with his head, in what Fisk thought vaguely resembled a boxer's stance. His breathing was deep but steady, like a bellows fueling a fire. The muscular Cat smiled and nodded in approval as Ana tiredly got back into a fighting stance, before once more going on the offensive.

"It's certainly something to watch, isn't it?"

Fisk turned his gaze from the spar to look at Angela, who seemed busy trying to not look like she was ogling Jason. Sighing, Fisk waved a hand in front of the albino to get her attention. "What's certainly something to watch, Lovergirl?" She blushed and bowed her head in embarrassment, not quite able to look the faintly grinning Cat in the eyes. "Jason fighting, Fisk. Sometimes, it seems like he's born for it."

Fisk turned his eyes back to the aforementioned agent, who was currently chasing Ana around the room, yelling something along the lines of "I am the secret agent who says NI!" He quirked an eyebrow and sighed. "I suppose. Right now I'm just glad he seems back to normal…well, as normal as he usually is." Chuckling, Angela looked back towards the chase as well. "Yeah…after we found him in the restrooms the other day I-" The training room doors opened, and Akira walked in, slightly out of breath.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. The meeting went on longer than I anticipated." Jason immediately stopped chasing the poor Dog and ran over to the new arrival. Gasping for breath, Ana folded over, barely supporting her upper-body with her hands on her knees. Angela sighed in annoyance and went over to help her to the benches, as Fisk stayed and watched the two younger males converse with each other.

Jason reached the shorter Cat and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, don't worry 'bout it Clear. Ana needed a workout anyway." Akira nodded and smiled softly at his older friend, before casting his gaze about the large room and flinching. The training mats were scattered about and crumpled, many weights of different sizes were laid about randomly, and half a dozen empty water bottles littered the floor; overall, it looked like a Jason had been through. "Maybe the two of us should move our spar elsewhere. Come on, we can do it in my private training area."

"Sure, just let me get something real quick." Jason ran over to the bleachers and grabbed his towel, before running back over to the waiting Asian. Slinging an arm around Akira's slim shoulders, he quickly waved back to the others, before his smirking form was hidden by the descending door. Angela looked from Fisk to the still-panting Ana, before also making her way to the door. "I need to go check up on the prisoner; it's about time for her bandages to be replaced." And then she too was gone, leaving just Ana and Fisk.

Ana sat down in exhaustion, leaning forward in a near-faint. Fisk walked over and handed the panting Dog a bottle of water, which she gratefully accepted. After several large gulps of the cool liquid she looked up at her superior with a concerned expression.

"Sir? Why is Jason always so…focused?"

Sitting down beside Ana, Fisk let out a soft sigh and looked her straight in the face. "I don't know if it's my place to be telling that story to anyone."

"But you do know" Ana posed, eager to find something out about one of her superiors. As a hacker of the highest order, not knowing something about **anything** was near-torture. "Oh, oh! Are Jason and Angela secret lovers? Is that it? Is he mentally and emotionally tortured by having her so close but at the same time so far away?" Groaning in annoyance, Fisk reached over and bonked her over the back of her head. "Don't be stupid, it doesn't work for you. Angela is far too sensible to do something like that."

Rubbing where she'd been hit, Ana pressed on. "Maybe, but is Jason? He seems about as far removed from sensible as a Jew in a Rib Crib." Fisk opened his mouth to argue this, but realized he really couldn't. "You're not going to give up on this ridiculous idea, are you?"

"Not until I hear a less-ridiculous idea!"

Closing his eyes, Fisk leaned back and rested against the higher steps and sighed, wondering why his companion had to fit the know-it-all hacker stereotype. He reopened his eyes and stared straight ahead, purposely avoiding Ana's expectant gaze. "I had just gotten back from a mission in Rome when I'd gotten the news. It was raining that day…"

* * *

_Flashback_

The waiting-room door slammed open, and Fisk nearly ran in, a panicked look in his eye. "Where is she!? He demanded of the room at large, startling its occupants. Church stood up from his seat beside a distraught Mr. Faunt, patting him once on the shoulder. Walking over, Church laid a gentle hand on Fisk's wet shoulder, drawing the Cat's attention. "Fisk, calm down. The birth was successful, Angela's out of danger and resting.

Fisk let out a loud sigh and collapsed into one of the many uncomfortable chairs, relief crashing through his rain-soaked body like waves on a beach. He closed his eyes and smiled; she was okay, his friend would be all right. He tiredly cracked an eye open and looked towards Mr. Faunt, and his smile instantly disappeared. The old Bat's face was crushed, ravaged by grief. He looked back at the nearby Wolf, only to see a similar expression. Suddenly what Church said fully dawned on him, and with a shaking voice he asked the question he feared the answer for. "Wait…what about the babies?"

Church looked away, and Faunt covered his face in sorrow, making Fisk's heart drop into his gut. "What the hell about the babies!?" Taking a steadying breath, Church looked back at Fisk. "Th-the doctor said that Angela was latently carrying the…Anthrax virus, from those attacks a while back. She's fine, but…but the babies…" He choked up, unable to finish; Faunt then took up the explanation. "They w-were born weak…and feeble. One is in Intensive Care right now; the other is…gone."

Fisk lowered his gaze, unable to continue looking Faunt in the eye. A new thought wormed its way into his mind, making him look to Church once more. "Where is Jason?"

* * *

Fisk warily opened the door into the ICU, letting in a thick beam of pale light into the darkened room. Quickly spotting his younger cousin standing before an observation window, he stepped in and shut the door, plunging the room back into shadow. He quietly walked over to the shorter Cat and joined him in his silent vigil of the room beyond the glass. Inside was a lone crib, surrounded on the left and right by various medical devices. In the crib, hooked up to all of the machines was a small, tan-furred baby Bat. Fisk couldn't hear it past the glass, but from the way the child's chest heaved up and down he was sure the machines were doing most of the work of breathing.

"Fisk, why did he have to die?" The addressed turned his head and gazed sadly at the speaker; Fisk's forest-green eyes locked with Jason's blood-red, as he worked over how best to explain why one of the twin babies died. "Listen Jason, sometimes…sometimes, bad things happen, and innocents die, and nothing can be don-" Jason spun around faster than Fisk could react and slammed a fist into his jaw, sending him stumbling to the ground.

"DON'T TELL ME NOTHING CAN BE DONE! It was a terrorist attack that caused Angela to have Anthrax to begin with, and WE'RE SUPPOSED TO STOP THEM! WE FAILED, AND TWO LIVES ARE RUINED AND A THIRD IS OVER BEFORE IT BEGAN!" Jason's voice shook from uncontrolled emotion, and as Fisk slowly got back to his feet he saw tears streaming down the tortured face.

Fisk spit out a glob of blood and looked at his cousin, a million thoughts racing through his mind. "You're right Jason; that is our duty, protecting our country and its people from all threats. And maybe there was something that could have been done, we'll never know. But don't take it out on your friends!" An image of Angela, and what she must be like at the moment passed through Fisk's mind, and he growled softly. "Other people are suffering because of this, not just you!"

Jason turned back to the observation window and continued in a quieter voice, unbridled fury and despair dripping from each word like a burning venom. "He was a child, a **newborn**, and he was dead before he could even experience life; he'll never talk, or learn to walk, or hug his mother, or learn to read, or go to school, have his first damn crush; none of it. And it's all because of terrorists, and their need to ruin everything. That's all they can do, isn't it Fisk? Taking lives, destroying things they can't create themselves…ruining things for other people."

The rage suddenly left Jason's ragged voice, and he looked at Fisk with eyes as calm as an underground lake. For a short moment Fisk thought Jason would be okay, until the next few words were spoken. "Terrorists must be wiped out, all of them; and all those who help them." Turning away, Jason strode to the door and out it, leaving Fisk alone in the shadowed room.

_Flashback end_

* * *

"The kind, joking Cat I trained was gone, consumed by his rage. Relentless, ruthless, pitiless towards all he considers as a threat to his precious people; that's Jason now."

Ana looked down, overwhelmed by the heartrending story. A small tear escaped from her and dropped down onto the uncomfortable seating, quickly followed by another. Fisk looked on in silence as the inexperienced agent struggled to keep herself together. After several moments Fisk placed a hand on her shoulder, gaining her attention. "Listen, don't tell anyone I told you any of this; especially Jason. Do you understand?" She looked back up and nodded, quickly steeling her expression; Fisk nodded in approval and stood up, offering her his hand. She gladly took it and struggled to her feet, slightly leaning against him for support. He chuckled and began to lead her away.

"Come on; let's get you to the showers before I pass out!" They both chuckled and left the room, gladly forgetting the dark pall of the past.

* * *

A/N: Hello faithful readers! I'm sure you were all wondering where dear old Mr. White was the last bunch of chapters, so here he is! And to reward your patience, I even through in the tragic event that has twisted Jason's soul so horrifically. A small warning; it's getting close to final around here, so the next chapter might be a bit late. Next time in Original Days 2:

_Looking away from the food table, Jason spotted Angela standing beside one of the many entrances into the ballroom. Grabbing a second glass of champagne, he carefully began to make his way over. Sidling up to her right, he smirked his trademark smirk and handed the bored looking Bat a drink._

"_Looks like you could use some liquid courage Angel."_


	11. The Intermission!

A/N: Hey everybody! Sorry about this, but I'm going to be taking a little break from the story in order to better focus on the upcoming finals. And so, here is…the Original Days 2 Intermission!! Feel free in any reviews of this to tell me in as much detail as you want exactly what you think of the story, how you think it compares to the first Original Days, how you think it compares to Jay Naylor's creations, and even how it compares to your favorite action movie if you feel like it! Any and all suggestions and opinions will be listened to and carefully considered, so remember, this is your best chance to leave a mark on the story.

Finally, I thought it would be neat to share with you all the actors and actresses that I would choose for all the major and semi-major characters in the story; I will also include one or two characters they have done in movies and shows for ease of identification. Feel free to leave your thoughts on these as well. And now, here we go!

* * *

_Cast:_

Fisk Black: Christian Bale (Bruce Wayne, John Connor)

Elizabeth Black: Nicole Sullivan (Shego)

Lucy Erikson: Christy Carlson Romano (Kim Possible, Yuffie Kisaragi)

Tom Erikson: Danny Cooksey (Jack Spicer, Dave the Barbarian)

Angela Faunt: Grey Delisle (Princess Azula, original Asajj Ventress)

Ryan Tobs: Mathew Fox (Jack Sheppard, Racer X)

Mr. Faunt: John Mahoney (Martin "Marty" Crane)

Derek Church: Burnie Burns (Private Leonard Church)

Ana Lucia Rodriguez: Michelle Rodriguez (Ana Lucia, Rain Ocampo)

Akira Shiro: Jason Marsden (Chase Young, Max Goof)

Jason V. Black for most of story: Dante Basco (Prince Zuko, Rufio)

Jason V. Black at the end of story: Peter Cullen (Optimus Prime, K.A.R.R.)

Deva: John DiMaggio (original General Grievous, Marcus Fenix)

Akira: Nika Futterman (the new Asajj Ventress)

Mr. White: Hugo Weaving (Live-action Megatron, Agent Smith)

Dr. Claudandus Amedeo: Joseph Gordon-Levitt (live-action Cobra Commander)

* * *

And there you go!


	12. Mounting Tension

A/N: Why yes, I do own Better Days…NOOOT!!!!

Original Days 2

Chapter 11: Mounting Tension

* * *

"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

The shrill scream echoed throughout the employee cafeteria, breaking the quiet morning calm. Ana joined the early-morning workers in looking around in confusion, while Fisk just stayed in his seat and continued eating his eggs."What the hell was that" Ana asked aloud; never before had she heard such a despair-filled shriek! Fisk looked up at the baffled crowd, and barely held in a sigh. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough."

Another scream rang out, closer this time and angrier. Several of the civilians looked like they were seriously considering getting out of there, when with a loud crash the cafeteria door flew open, and Angela came running in, laughing like mad. Right on her heels was Jason, screaming obscenities that would have made the Angry Video Game Nerd blush. The reason for this was immediately clear to all who know Jason well; sometime during the night, Angela had cut Jason's hair into a more professional length, to just a bit longer than Fisk's haircut.

Ana watched in a mix of shock and embarrassment as the two ran around the room like children, eliciting laughter from the surrounding employees, before turning to Fisk. "I know I haven't been part of the company for long, but, are they always like this?" Fisk turned to her and wearily sighed, absentmindedly picking up a spoon and chucking it at Jason's head. "Well, they knew each other before either met me, so I can't say always, but they've definitely been like that since I met them."

Before Ana could say anything else Jason stormed up, clutching Fisk's ballistic cutlery in his left hand and Angela's wrist in the other. "Were either of you two in on it!?" Fisk looked from the spoon to Jason's new 'do, before cracking an amused smile. "No, I can honestly say I had nothing to do with this. However, you should have seen it coming; it was this, or get it caught in a bunch of machinery and almost lose your head…again."

Jason blushed in embarrassment as several of the nearby personnel began chuckling; he quickly shot a glare at Ana's doubled-over form, before throwing the spoon back at Fisk. "One time, **one damn time**, and I never live it down!" Grumbling inaudibly to himself, Jason sat down and grabbed a biscuit from Fisk's plate. Taking a bite, he chewed it while shooting Angela a half-hearted glare. "So what do you have to say for yourself?"

Angela smirked and pointed over their shoulders at the cafeteria entrance, where Akira had just come in. "He told me to" she said simply, just as the aforementioned Cat reached them. He ordered all of his employees to get back to what they'd been doing, before looking at the grouped-together agents. "Sorry for the sudden lightening of your head Jason, but I need my 'bodyguards' to look like professionals this evening. It wouldn't do to present a sloppy image to the charity brigade."

Jason blankly looked at Akira, bewilderment clear on his face. Fisk reached over and took back his biscuit while shooting Jason an exasperated look. "This is why you shouldn't read during meetings, you'll miss stuff. Tonight Akira's company is holding a major fundraiser for his charity group."

"Not just any fundraiser," the slim Cat took over, drawing the four's attention back to him. "It gathers enough money in one night every year to rival the total Christmas-time donations. It is too vital for me to simply cancel or not go myself. Many very rich, **very** important people will be there, and I want all of you to look and perform your best. That means no duster, Jason!"

Jason rolled his eyes and stood up to get some food of his own. "Yeah, yeah, who do you take me for?"

* * *

"Who does that…bastard take me for!?"

Jason paced the length of the cell, growling out random obscenities and curses about the apparent indignity he'd suffered. The cell was a modified storage area, exactly 8x5 feet; the walls were concrete and painted a dark, non-reflective grey. Along the wall opposite the single door a cot was set up, with a thin grey blanket and no pillow.

Asura yawned and looked over at Jason from the cot, rolling her eyes at his complaining. "What the hell are you even upset about? I think it sounds like fun; free food, interesting people, hell, it's even being held on a big fancy boat! Sounds like the perfect place to put the moves on your cute little Angel!"

Ignoring the resident psycho's mad laughter, Jason kept pacing back and forth. Annoyed at being ignored, Asura stood up and cautiously moved over to the taller Cat; it was never a good idea to surprise your captor, after all. With a hand gently pressed against his chest she stopped his pacing, slowly moving it to his broad shoulders. From there she began to gently rub and massage them. "Come on, you can tell me anything, remember? What's really bothering you Jason?" Jason leaned into the delicate touch and allowed it to sooth his temper; it was something he couldn't explain, but Asura's touch just made him…calmer. He looked down to the light grey floor, thinking. "I don't know really. More and more I feel as if I'm being excluded from something, held back because of some perceived lacking."

"Well," Asura began, running her hands reverently down his straight back, to just above his tail. "Maybe they would feel more trusting of you, if you didn't make it a point to visit the 'crazy terrorist bitch' every day. Not exactly what I would call a confidence-builder." She began to inch her hands down further, until Jason spun around and grabbed her by the throat.

"Don't even think about it, Asura. You haven't sunk your claws into me that deep, not yet."

She wheezed slightly and caressed the hand gripping her neck. She fixed him with a strangely victorious smirk, confusing Jason. Letting go he backed up several feet, giving Asura space to catch her breath. He brought his suddenly-shaking hand up, the same hand that had bloodied itself against her face.

"So," she began, looking up at his hand as well. "Did you rip your hands apart over little ole me, or did they do something silly like ban long hair? Hehehehehahahahah!" Jason stepped back further, before turning and making his way to the exit. Asura quickly stopped laughing and watched him leave, before skipping back to her cot and laying down. _"I wonder if he has realized yet that he didn't call me terrorist once…"_

* * *

At 7:40 that night Fisk, Jason, Angela, and Akira left ShiroTech for the fundraiser, located on Akira's private super-yacht, the Kumo. Ana stayed behind at the headquarters to monitor their security, while each of the other three agents went in separate vehicles, to confuse any potential attackers. Angela, traveling with the real Akira, arrived at the docks first, and was soon joined by Fisk and his decoy. Currently they were waiting for Jason and the few guests not yet to have arrived.

"Oh, wow…"

Angela stood beside Fisk and stared in awe as she took in the majesty of the Kumo. At exactly 500 ft. the white and tan ship was the fourth-largest super-yacht in the world, and was equipped with two helicopter pads, a fully-equipped on-board hospital, a kitchen staffed by five-star restaurant level chefs, and even a ballroom. It was here that most of the banquet itself would take place.

The sound of a car pulling up near them drew Angela's attention, and she turned just in time to see Jason step out of the driver's seat. Her breath caught in her throat, as she realized with a soft blush that Jason was …handsome. He wore a midnight-black double-breasted suit, with matching shoes and a silver tie. Black leather gloves adorned his hands. His recently cut hair was slicked back and down, with two or three strands hanging in front. She felt her cheeks redden further when he turned and looked at her.

* * *

Jason sighed heavily as he slowed the car down to a stop. Not stopping to check on his decoy-Akira, he unbuckled and began to get out of the unfamiliar car. _"Man, why couldn't my car have been repaired and ready to go? I mean, come on! It was just riddled with bullets, smashed on one side by a truck, and missing its ro-"_

Any thoughts going through his head disappeared as he laid his eyes on Angela. Having left at different times and from different exits, this was the first time Jason could see how beautiful Angela truly was for that night. She wore a red silk Cheongsam, with black trimming and a black collar. It was sleeveless, to keep the wing-membranes of her arms from getting cramped. Simple black dress shoes adorned her feet, elegant without being impractical.

Thankful that his black fur would completely hide his blush, Jason shut his door and began walking over to the small group. In contrast to his black clothing, Fisk wore a dark-blue single-breasted suit, with slightly wider than normal arms. Jason instantly knew what purpose this served. _"Damn it, why didn't I think of that? Now I'm going to look like an idiot if something happens and I don't have my wrist-blades!"_

Akira had donned a snow-white Nehru jacket, reaching down to the knees of his matching pants. He smirked slightly as Jason walked over, winking at him before turning and beginning to walk up the ramp to the ship. "Well then, now that everyone's here, let's get started!" Fisk nodded and fell into step behind him, followed soon by Jason and Angela. Getting into step beside her, Jason discretely tried to hold Angela's hand, only for her to jerk away and increase her pace. Jason watched her retreating back and sighed. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

"_Oh God I'm bored"_ Jason thought wearily as he took a sip of his wine. Not that the food or drink was bad; in fact, Jason thought it was some of the best he'd ever had. The problem was the company. The world's millionaires and billionaires were surprisingly boring, all their talk focused on business and politics.

"_How does he do it,"_ he thought in annoyance as he discretely watched Fisk chat with some ex-politician several seats down. Adjusting his posture, his gaze shifted to Angela several seats to his other side. He sighed contentedly as she laughed at some unheard joke, the sight of her smiling face bringing a smile to his own. Her laugh, barely heard over the incessant chatter of those between them, filled his heart with gentle warmth, like the kind felt from a loved one's hug. She noticed his gaze and smiled apologetically, before going back to her conversation with Akira.

At her casual dismissal a strange anger roared into life in Jason's chest, making him clench his fork in phantom-pain. He diverted his attention from the Bat, the room around him losing focus. He felt as if his heart had been replaced by a nuclear reactor, and it was burning his chest into a blackened husk. Dark, familiar thoughts came to mind, thoughts he'd had many times before now; thoughts that she didn't love him, that he was just free room and board to her…that her heart belonged to anyone other than him…

A soft hand on his shoulder broke Jason from these thoughts, making him look up into the concerned face of a waitress. "Sir? Would you like another fork?" He looked down to discover that he had at some point snapped the fork in half in his clenched hand. Dropping the useless hunks of metal he looked back up t her and smiled apologetically. "Sorry 'bout that, don't know my own strength. No need for another fork, I was done anyway." She nodded once and continued on around the tables.

Jason sighed and looked back around the area, considering going to see what all the other bodyguards were doing, when he noticed Akira stand up. Everyone quickly stopped whatever they were doing and looked up at the Cat.

"Ladies, gentlemen, dear friends," he began, solemnly looking over the group. "We have gathered together once again, to pool our resources in order to help those less fortunate than ourselves. In this time of war, disease, and terrorism, we must all do what we can to improve this world of ours. To leave it better than it was when we came into it. All people share this dream; some go about achieving it in ways that only they may be able to understand, but it is their dream all the same. now, tonight, we have the ability; we have the power; all that matters now is deciding what we want to achieve, and then doing it. To fixing the world."

As one, Akira, the three agents, and all the guests raised their glasses to the toast and downed them. Setting his glass back down Akira smiled and clapped his hands together. "Well then, enough of this seriousness. The night is young, and there's more champagne to be had in the lounge!"

* * *

"It's such a tragedy, isn't it Mr. Black?"

Fisk downed his drink and set it back down onto the refreshment table, turning his gaze back to ex-senator Michael Netton. He followed the old Terrier's gaze out a window, towards the New York skyline. After Akira's speech the two-dozen or so guests, plus their three-dozen bodyguards, all moved lower into the super-yacht to the lounge, where they were now all having more alcohol than was probably wise.

Fisk was brought back to the present as Netton began talking once more.

"It's just a damn tragedy, war. Every generation thinks that its wars, its conflicts, will be the last; that somehow everything will be better afterwards. But it never is, and that generation will live on just long enough to see their hopes proven wrong. This kid for example, Akira, you can tell he believes everything he said in his pretty little speech. And why shouldn't he? He's young and rich; he hasn't had time to learn these things properly, none in his generation have." He stopped and drank from his champagne to moisten his lips, before continuing. "Your generation though, Mr. Black, your generation understands quite well just how hopeless this eternal struggle against violence truly is. At times one can really sympathize with Sisyphus."

"Sisyphus, Sir?"

Netton nodded and drank again, smacking his lips before turning to face Fisk completely. "Hm, I suppose you've never heard that story, or any of its kind before, have you? Ah, doesn't matter if you have or not. Sisyphus was a king of Corinth and the craftiest of all men; he was punished by Zeus for his avarice, deceit, and hunger for power that was not his; his punishment took the form of being eternally condemned to rolling a large stone up a hill in Tartarus; the underworld, to you. Whenever he almost reached the top the rock would roll back down to the bottom, forcing him to start all over again." Netton's eyes wandered, as if seeing something far away. "That is the reality that faces all good people, Black; the reality that we will never leave a lasting impact on the world…"

His voice trailed off, followed soon by Netton himself as he wandered away, leaving Fisk alone to consider the conversation. Not one for myths and fairy-tales, he quickly brushed off the story of Sisyphus as irrelevant, focusing instead on what Netton had called the reality of things._ "He's wrong in that regard though,"_ Fisk thought with a grim smirk as his mind recalled a past moment in his life; when he, and his sister, and his cousin Persia stood around their dying grandfather's hospital bed…

* * *

_Flashback_

"Heh, what have I unleashed upon the world" the old, feeble Cat looked around his bed, taking in the appearances of his legacy. First Persia, then Lucy, and then finally Fisk. Seeming to like what he saw, the weak Tomcat smiled and began to speak once more.

"You go through life…and in the end…you wonder if you did right. Then you see these…beautiful faces. And you know you can say…your life was worth it. You can be content."

_Flashback end_

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Not long afterwards, his sick grandfather had passed away, and Fisk joined the Army. Looking back now, Fisk could honestly say that he was content with his life. And that's what mattered, being content.

Looking away from the refreshments, Fisk spotted Angela standing beside one of the many entrances into the ballroom. Grabbing a second glass of champagne, he carefully began to make his way over. Sidling up to her right, he smirked his trademark smirk and handed the bored looking Bat a drink. "Looks like you could use some liquid courage Angela."

Angela looked up at him and smiled thankfully, before reaching out and taking the offered drink. "So, have a nice chat with the good senator?" Fisk shrugged and took a sip from his drink. "Oh come on, don't tell me you are still upset? It's been four years; he's probably completely forgotten that he had even considered exposing the company." Angela sighed and looked around the room, noticing their charge talking to one of his security people. "So what do you think of Akira, Fisk? Doesn't really seem like a super-rich businessman, if you ask me."

Fisk followed her gaze and watched the young Asian as well. "No, he really doesn't. He told me the other day he'd only recently come into control of his company, so I guess he's just not used to it yet. Nice speech though." Angela nodded in agreement, although Fisk thought he saw a flicker of something else in her eye. "What, what is it?" She looked back at him and shrugged.

"I don't know; sometimes, it just seems like he's trying too hard to be nice. And the amount of time he and Jason spend together worries me."

"Yeah, where is Jason anyway?" Fisk looked around again, but couldn't see his cousin's dark hair anywhere.

"I think I saw him go outside; probably needed to puke after how much he ate." Angela motioned to the door she saw Jason use; Fisk nodded in thanks before heading over to it.

* * *

Jason stared out over the water, red eyes gazing towards the nearby city. Gloved hands gripped the metal railing tightly, as his mind repeated over and over Akira's speech. It seemed odd to Jason, for some reason, for Akira to refer to such things as power and fixing the world in reference to a simple charity.

His train of thought was interrupted as he noticed soft footsteps approaching from behind. He turned to see who it was and, seeing it was his cousin, sighed and turned back to the view. "Hey Fish, enjoying things?"

Fisk shrugged his shoulders and took up a spot to Jason's left, gazing out to the city with him. "I suppose, if you consider not being bored the same thing as enjoying. I am guessing you are not enjoying things?" Jason continued to look away, causing Fisk to become concerned; his cousin was **never** this quiet. "Jason, is something wrong? You're not still upset about Angela cutting your hair are you?" Jason stirred slightly when the Bat's name was said, something Fisk immediately picked up on. "Jason…is there something I should know about concerning you and Angela?"

Jason's body sagged, and his gaze fell down from the distant city-lights to the dark, empty waters below them. "Tell me Fisk…what's it like to be with the woman you love?" Caught off-guard by the bluntness of the question, Fisk took a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "It is hard to describe…wait…are you and Angela…?" Jason smiled grimly and shook his head, although the look in his eye did nothing to get rid of the unease Fisk was feeling.

"I love her Fisk. I love Angela Faunt, and I wish I could spend the rest of my life with her. Her smile makes my heart quicken; her touch makes my knees weaken; her voice makes me feel like I can conquer any obstacle. And when I think about the fact that we can never be together…that she can never be **mine**…it feels like my heart is replaced with a nuclear inferno! It's not fair!"

Fisk stepped back a few steps, taken aback by the outburst. Suddenly everything made perfect sense to the pensive Cat, and he looked at his cousin with sympathetic eyes. "I think I understand a little bit of what you are going through. When I first joined the company, I had to give up a person I loved a great deal, even though I never really acknowledged I lost her until I'd come back and found someone else answering the door. But Jason, if that hadn't of happened, then I would never have ended up with my true love Elizabeth. Janie, Thomas, and Janie would never be."

He reached over and laid a firm but comforting hand on Jason's shoulder. "Sometimes, romances just don't work out the way we want them to, an-" Jason suddenly held up an arm, silencing him. "Did you feel that" he asked, eyes quickly scanning the area. Fisk followed suit, slowly tensing as the sudden silence pressed in on them. "Feel what?"

Jason reached into his jacket and pulled out a Beretta U22 Neos, before breaking into a run back to the lounge. "The engines, they've stopped!"

* * *

A/N: Dun dun dun!!! Things begin to heat up, the pressure mounts, as our heroes face new situations and different relations.

Next time in Original Days 2; Fisk proves he's badass, Angela shows off her sniping skills, and Jason enters a freefall…into darkness.


	13. Freefall Into Darkness

A/N: Dontcha just hate cliffhangers? I know I do! And so, the next chapter!

Original Days 2

Chapter 12: Freefall into Darkness

* * *

"The engines, they've stopped!"

Fisk reached into his jacket and pulled out his own gun, while breaking into a run and quickly catching up with his cousin. "How do you know" Fisk asked, not being able to tell that the boat had stopped. "The way the water lapped at the hull changed" was his reply. The sound of screams and gunfire was suddenly heard ahead of them, prompting both agents to speed up. Bracing themselves, the duo burst through the door, only to find the lounge in chaos.

Most of the guests lay on the floor, bullet-riddled bodies quickly paling as their blood seeped out. The surviving security personnel had thrown over several tables for cover, but were still vastly outmatched by the white-armored troops who had turned the yacht into a battle-zone. But none of this was what made the two agents stop in their tracks, made their blood run cold. No, it was the towering Cougar across the room from them, holding a kicking Angela in the air like she was a ragdoll.

He wore a snow-white business suit, a bright-red blood-splatter across the chest. Instead of flesh his left hand was metal and bone-white, each finger ending in a curved blade; these were currently dripping with blood, before being raised up and wiped against the suit. The skin over his jaws had been replaced by a flexible plastic-like material; the lips were missing completely, revealing razor-sharp metallic teeth. Steel-blue eyes turned and focused on the two horrified agents, as what could have been a smile stretched over the horror's face.

"Hello Blacks…how nice it is to see you again."White looked back at Angela as she landed a kick against his chest; growling in annoyance, he threw the Bat clear across the room at Fisk and Jason. This knocked them out of their stupor. Jason dove for Angela, while Fisk rolled behind cover and began to fire at the soldiers. Jason joined him a moment later, cradling Angela's gasping body in his arms protectively.

"What the hell!? That's White!" Jason looked over Angela's bruised body, before she coughed and manage to get back to her knees, shooting Jason an appreciative look. Fisk ducked down behind cover as he began to reload. "We can worry about that later! Right now we just need to survive!" Jason nodded and began to blind-fire over the table. Suddenly however, White's deep growl of a voice rang out, and the soldiers stopped firing. "Men, fall back! We have who we came for!" The pure-white Cougar waited a moment for any response from the defenders, before turning to the troops and nodding. Instantly Copperhead broke from the ranks and made a run for the exit, Akira held at sword-point and barely keeping up.

Suddenly Jason burst from the make-shift barricade, gripping a heavy wooden table by two legs and rushing White, as Fisk chased after Copperhead; Angela meanwhile used this distraction to quickly start leading the remaining survivors for the life-boats.

Jason rammed into the surprised White and kept going, smashing straight through the wall and into the main storage area. He growled and shoved White against another wall, before a metal fist smashed through the wooden table and punched the blitzing Cat in the gut. White threw the broken table aside and charged at Jason with an overhead strike; Jason threw up both arms to block, only to be driven to his knees by the force of the blow. White instantly brought his knee up and into Jason's face, launching him back through the wall into the lounge.

"_Aw…fuck" _Jason groaned and struggled back to his feet, looking up just in time for White's flesh hand to impact with his face. He staggered back, clutching at his bleeding nose and swearing. _"This is __**not**__ gonna be fun…"_

Fisk ducked another elbow and struck out, catching the soldier in the unprotected flank. Even as the Wolf fell Fisk had moved on to his next opponent. He caught the Cat's thrown arm and grabbed the elbow, before twisting and breaking the limb. Ignoring the screams of pain Fisk looked around and saw that he'd taken down all the Organization soldiers left in the lounge. Picking up a dropped AK-74, he checked the magazine and, finding it half-empty, dropped the weapon and stuck with his pistol. He ran back out onto the deck and paused, as a dozen armed soldiers turned to look at him.

The space between the wall to their right and the railing to their left was just wide enough for two men to stand shoulder-to-shoulder; each soldier carried a 30-round M4 assault carbine with two extra magazines, equaling a total of 1080 bullets capable of killing him; his gun carried 10 rounds, with a spare clip in his jacket, equaling 20 total rounds to kill them with; Copperhead was behind the virtual wall of enemies, escaping with Akira in one of three stealth-boats Fisk could see. Fisk took in all of this information within two seconds of exiting the door; within three seconds he'd flicked his right hand, causing a standard-issue KA-BAR combat knife to slide from its holding mechanism into his waiting hand; within four seconds Fisk charged the soldiers, who were just now training their weapons on him.

Ducking down beneath the first soldier Fisk drove the deadly blade up and into his gut, turning to his next opponent and letting the blade drag through the howling Cat's intestines. Leaning back he dodged a wild swipe, before grabbing the arm and using it to twist the body between him and incoming gunfire. Dropping the dead body Fisk threw the knife forward, where it embedded into one enemies' skull and knocked him back into the others. Taking advantage of this, Fisk barreled into the center of the disoriented group, landing crushing elbows and hammer strikes.

Blocking a punch he snapped the arm and spun around in time to make a kick hit the captured limb. He kicked out and caught this soldier in the midsection, before getting a painful blow to the face with the butt of one soldier's rifle. Recovering from the blow the tall Cat grabbed an incoming fist and threw the owner of the fist over the railing; without pausing he dove back, shoving into and driving another soldier against the wall.

* * *

Jason dove to the right as White attacked, barely dodging an axe kick that looked like it would've chopped him in two. Rolling back to his feet Jason grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it against White's exposed back, making him cry out in pain. Snarling, the Cougar turned around and swung his robotic arm, smashing the chair and sending Jason tumbling to the floor.

"You have no idea…how much I have been looking forward to this. The chance to kill you…has been clawing at my mind ever since my resurrection." Jason snarled and struck out at one of White's legs from the floor, only to flinch as he found out that it too was robotic. Staggering to his feet, he cried out as White's claws suddenly slashed across his chest, leaving five blood-oozing gashes. Kicking out, his foot smashed into White's chest, resulting in little more than a grunt of pain from him. Jason back-flipped away, desperate to put some room between him and the seemingly unstoppable Cougar.

"What is this? Running away are you? So different from last time we fought; and here I was thinking you were stronger. Heheheh…"

* * *

"GRAAH!"

With a savage jerk Fisk snapped the final soldier's neck, nearly ripping the head off in the process, and threw him to the ground. Panting, he looked around for any more troops to appear; seeing there were none, he began to continue on when a sudden yell caught his attention. Turning he saw Angela hurrying over with a pistol in hand.

"Everyone's gone and safe, other than idiots like us of course. What's the situation?" Before Fisk could respond a black stealth-boat sped by; Fisk grabbed Angela and pulled her to the ground as a hail of bullets tore through the space they'd been in a moment ago. Looking up, Fisk could barely make out Akira's white jacket on the boat. "It looks like we need to catch that boat! Come on!"

Rushing forward Fisk jumped over the railing onto another one of the stealth-boats, quickly followed by Angela. Grabbing the wheel and hitting the gas Fisk tore away from the super-yacht and after Copperhead's vessel, as Angela silently searched for weapons.

"Angela, what happened after I left?"

The Bat agent briefly looked up before continuing her search. "It happened so fast, there was nothing I could do. I had been walking over to Akira when suddenly a flash-bang went off; next thing I know soldiers are pouring into the room and I've got someone who's supposed to be **dead** cutting down the person beside me." She hurried over to the front of the craft, handing Fisk an AK-74 before training her Windrunner sniper rifle's sights on the boat they were after. "Fisk…where's Jason?"

* * *

Jason staggered back and into a wall, leaning on it to support his heaving body. The fight had worked its way out of the lounge, and the two combatants now found themselves in the kitchen area. He reached up and wiped away at the blood leaking from his nose, before slipping to the left in time to dodge a knife hand strike from White. Flipping over an island he grabbed a knife from the counter on the other side and threw it at White. Reaching out with his flesh hand White deftly snatched it from the air and spun around, releasing the weapon back at Jason with twice the velocity.

Jason grabbed another knife and batted the ballistic weapon out of the air, before flipping back over the table and slashing at White with the new blade. White blocked with his finger-blades and shoved back against Jason, sending the overpowered Cat stumbling back against the stoves. White dashed forward and rammed into Jason, before grabbing him and throwing him threw a stack of dishes.

"Come on, is this the best you can do!? Is this all you can muster?! Surely you can do better?"

Jason groaned and slowly clambered to his hands and knees. Looking up he spit out a glob of spit and blood, before climbing all the way back up to his feet. He raised his head up, glaring at White with blazing red eyes as he got into his fighting stance. "Damn right I can." White smiled at this proclamation, before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a detonator. "Let us put you to the test then, and see if you are worthy."

CLICK.

* * *

Fisk, Angela, and all in Copperhead's craft staggered suddenly as a shockwave of sound and heated air blasted them. All eyes turned back to the Kumo, to find that the entire stern had blown up, showering the surrounding ocean with wood and metal. Fisk cried out in dismay as the bow of the ship started to slowly lift up into the air, and it was only the discipline he'd developed from his time in the Army that kept him from turning their craft around and going to help Jason. Angela just watched the sinking ship for a moment, anguished tears leaking from her eyes, before angrily wiping them away and refocusing her scope on the enemy craft.

Copperhead had also turned to look upon the critically-damaged ship, the professional in him impressed by his latest employer's handiwork. As he looked on a sudden gleam to his forward-left caught his attention. Turning his full attention on it, he thought it seemed familiar. It reminded him of the light reflecting off of…a sniper scope!

"**Soldiers, sni-" **a crack rang out through the early-summer night as the high-velocity round hammered into and through Copperhead's chest, sending the stunned Bat to the deck. As soon as the surrounding soldiers saw their commander go down they turned and opened fire in the direction the shot came from, forcing Angela to duck in order to avoid getting her head blown off. Fisk swerved their boat to the left, wincing as several shots tore into their hull.

"Angela, take more down so that I can get closer!" The Bat nodded once before getting back into position. Taking aim on an enemies head, she briefly said a prayer for Jason's safety, before squeezing the trigger. The head erupted in a shower of blood, but Angela paid this no mind, having already moved on to the next target. An arm blew off, sending the screaming enemy falling over the side of the craft; an abdomen was punched through, spilling the guts out the other side of the hole; a Cougar fell to its knees, gargling up blood and screaming, hands reaching up to find its lower jaw gone. In such a small area, the troops were nothing but a shooting gallery.

* * *

White narrowly ducked under the fierce roundhouse kick, springing back up just in time for the follow-up palm thrust to smash into his chest and send him crashing into and through the fire-weakened wall behind him. The slightly dazed Cougar looked up and watched as Jason swiftly strode through the burning hole, a look of absolute determination seemingly carved into his face.

And then suddenly Jason was right in front of him, raining punches, kicks, and every conceivable kind of strike down so fast that White didn't even dare to throw any attacks of his own for fear of leaving an opening. White felt himself blanch. Where had this come from?

Jason came on inexorably, impossibly powerful, a tank with fists: each blow a step and each step a blow. His breath growing short and hard, White backed away as fast as he dared, Jason staying right on top of him. He no longer tried to directly stop Jason's attacks, but only to guide them slanting away; to his great shock he could not meet the dark Cat strength-to-strength, and the weight of his mechanical limbs was beginning to take its toll.

White blocked a double-hammer fist and looked straight into the burning red orbs that Jason called eyes. And only then did he understand exactly why his children had felt to formulate their plans around the Cat. Why Jason seemed to be getting **stronger **as the fight went on. Why he no longer spoke, even to distract.

Jason Black was a natural.

Jason Black had a thermonuclear furnace where his heart should be, and it was driving the Cat always forward in a battle march no cold tactic or calculating maneuver could stop. He held his life in the grip of a burning fist, forcing everything into how he felt it should be. He was halfway to being one of them, and he didn't even know it!

This boy had the gift of fury.

And now that White understood all of this, he allowed himself a smile. Anger was powerful, but it always came from the greatest of weaknesses: fear. And White was a master of using fear. Quickly jumping away, he flicked his left hand, and the razor-sharp blades on each finger elongated slightly.

"Do not think you can hide your dread with rage, Black." Jason paused briefly, showing to White that he was on the right track. "Humph, and this is what passes for an agent these days, a fear-ridden child who loses his temper every chance he gets. You are not a real agent; you are nothing but a fraud." Jason's fury disappeared, to be replaced by uncertainty.

And just like that, White was back in control.

* * *

The enemy gunfire stopped suddenly as the five remaining combatants (not including the pilot) ducked down and out of Angela's ability to hit. This was the chance Fisk had been waiting for, as he hit the gas and began to close the distance between them. The two craft smashed together, and with a shout for Angela to take the controls Fisk drew his knife and jumped onto the other boat.

The first soldier looked up just in time for Fisk's knee to catch him in the chin, snapping his neck and sending the dead body back. A Rottweiler charged at Fisk from the left, while a Husky came at him from the front. Ducking under the Husky's punch Fisk quickly stabbed into the exposed armpit, and then stepped back and caught the Rott's punch. Twisting forward he wrapped his spare arm around the surprised Dog's head and with a quick snap broke the neck. A sudden pain erupted in his shoulder; Fisk spun around and blocked the bloody knife as it came back down at him with his own, before with a growl he shoved the lucky opponent over the side and into the cold Atlantic waters.

Panting just slightly, Fisk turned back to the final soldier, to see him literally shaking in terror, assault rifle pointed at Fisk but finger nowhere near the trigger. Fisk raised an eyebrow, before jumping forward and yelling; with a frightened scream the enemy dropped his gun and threw himself overboard. Fisk allowed himself a small chuckle, before suddenly twisting around and slashing with his knife. The pilot gargled for a moment, his throat sliced open in his failed sneak-attack, before falling limply to the side.

Quickly wiping his blade clean and sheathing it, Fisk strode over to the pilot's area, where Akira had taken refuge during the brief fight. "Come on" Fisk said as he reached down and offered the trembling Cat a hand. "We gotta save Jason."

* * *

Jason clutched at his bleeding and broken shoulder, weakly trying to stem the flow of precious blood. Staggering as the floor gave another lurch; he threw himself forward and grabbed hold of a wall-mounted light-fixture with his good arm, hanging on as the floor slowly became the wall, and the wall became the ceiling. He looked back down the hallway he was in, just in time to see White crash through the door on the opposite end.

"Aw fuck." Jason looked forward and kicked off from the sideways wall, keeping up constant momentum as he pinballed himself from one wall to the other in an attempt to get some distance. Seeing the distance between them grow White growled and swiped his robotic arm in a wide arc; the finger-blades detached and shot out, right into Jason's path. Jason cried out in pain as two sunk into his back, another into his right inner-thigh and a forth into his right elbow, fracturing the bone within. With a grunt he crashed against the wall and fell into the slowly rising water.

"_I guess…this is it…"_ Jason closed his eyes, tired of fighting, body screaming in pain from the terrible fight. As the sound of splashing footsteps grew closer his mind wandered to his family, his friends. _"I'll never…see any of them…again. Angela…I'm sorry…"_ his vision began to blur, as the water became red with his blood. Suddenly a hand shot out and grabbed him by the neck, and with a grunt of effort White lifted Jason out of the water until they were eye level.

Jason blearily looked White in the eye, icy-blue meeting fiery-red. Weakly he raised a hand and punched at White's chest, making the Cougar smile in amusement and…pride? Before Jason had a chance to do anything else White had begun walking, carrying the confused agent in the air as he worked his way through the flooding hallways out of the ship. Grunting from the effort White forced open a hatch leading out onto the forward helicopter pad and clambered up onto the sideways cabin walls, setting Jason down beside the door so that he could get his bearings.

"Well, you have given me quite the fight Jason; not many could honestly say their fight sunk an entire boat! Fortunately for you, I do not plan to kill you." Jason struggled onto his knees and good arm, and looked up at White with an expression that clearly said he didn't believe him. The Cougar shrugged and turned away, eyes taking in the distant shore. If one listened hard enough, one could make out the distant sound of sirens.

"I respect you Black, more than I respect anyone else. Your life has been one moment of suffering after another; neglected by your parents because of your academic inadequacies, isolated from your peers by your wealthy heritage, abused by an older brother who could do no wrong in the eyes of others, not to mention that horrible experience when you were eight. Tell me, how many bastards were there that day? How many bastards ra-"

"Three,' Jason shouted, eyes clenched shut from a combination of the phantom-pain of the memory and the physical pain throughout his body. White turned from the view and placed a comforting hand on Jason's broken shoulder, slowing down the escaping blood flow with the pressure. "Through all of that you made your own identity, your own strength. You do what **you** deem is right, care for those **you** decide are worth your care. And for this, you have earned my respect. But now you find yourself faced with something that cannot be stopped or ignored: little Constantine's death; how tragic for a life to be ended before it even has a chance." Jason nodded in agreement, before suddenly his eyes shot open in realization, and with a sudden strength that surprised even White, jumped to his feet and grabbed White's suit by the collar.

"Wait! Your daughter, Asura, she said the Organization can do something! Is that true? Can you help him!?" White calmly took hold of Jason's shaking hand and pulled it from his jacket. "I stand before you, do I not? A dead man, brought back from that which no one has ever come back from before. To answer your question, we can fix Constantine; a shared acquaintance of ours, Dr. Amedeo, has created a serum that has the capability of repairing and reinforcing the child's weakened organs." He turned his gaze back to the city in seeming thought, as Jason anxiously waited for him to continue, the pain disappearing from his newly refocused mind.

"Join me Jason; join the Organization, help it to achieve its goals, and I will give you whatever you want. Perhaps a place to arrange as you see fit; how does New York sound? The city, the state, it doesn't matter; you ask, you **want**, and it shall be yours." Jason however ignores the city, making a look of interest to flit across White's face. "No, you are not that type of person at all. You do not desire for things…you desire for people; one Bat in particular. Join me, and no harm shall ever come to Angela; join me, and never have to hide our love again."

Inside Jason, a terrible battle was being waged. Everything he'd ever done in his life had been against people like White. But, he mused as the night air blew against his wounds, where had that gotten him? But, no, Fisk had lived a similar path, and that Cat had a great life, so why didn't he? "But…but, y-you're evil…"

"Evil? Is that what they call me? Evil is a word used by the ignorant and weak. Life is about survival; unleashing your inner power, not restraining it to make the naturally-weaker feel better. To live under the moral laws of others; to not go to any length necessary to achieve your own personal ends; to live for others instead of yourself…it is all a betrayal of life. Only through me can you fully learn to understand this. Only through me can you achieve your ambitions; make your choice."

Somewhere deep inside, Jason knew what the repercussions for his choice would be, but he didn't care. He was tired of the hopeless life, the endless vigilance, and the constant battles against an enemy who refused to play by the "good guys" rules. He would save Constantine! He would end the nonsensical violence ripping the world apart! He would have Angela as his own! He would be happy, even if it meant not playing by the "rules"!

Inside, the nuclear reactor that was his heart tried to overload into an inferno once more; it tried to tell him of fear and despair and that all things die. With a diamond will the dark Cat forced the fury back down, channeled it to suit his newly-forged ambitions. He looked up at White; pain, hesitation, and doubt crushed just as his hate had been. All that remained was his determination. "I will do whatever it takes to achieve what I want. Asura was right; there's no point in these self-limiting morals, and so I'm done with them." White nodded in approval, before extending his right hand forward; Jason immediately took it, and the pair shook hands.

"Welcome to the Organization…Mr. Black."

* * *

A/N: Here is the point where any fans of Jason will probably start sending me flames and hate-mail. If y'all don't like how I write my story, make a better one. Coincidently, if you don't count the epilogue, Original Days 2 has now reached the same chapter count as Original Days.

Next time in Original Days 2, we check in on an old friend, and see what she's up to.


	14. History, Part Deux

A/N: Sorry for this chapter guys, you probably really want to see what happens next with Jason. However, this is a necessary chapter, as it closes out an important subplot.

Original Days 2

Chapter 13: History, Part Deux

* * *

**Ding-dong.  
**

Lucy backed from the door a bit, waiting for the doorbell to be answered. As she waited Lucy looked around the new neighborhood her mother and stepfather had moved to. It was very well-to-do, without being too stuffy or uptight._ "Florida's not too bad," _she thought idly as a warm humid breeze blew through her fur. _"I wouldn't mind living here actually." _Just then the door opened behind her, and she turned around to see her stepfather Sam in the doorway.

"Lucy, sweetie! How are you?" Lucy smiled and stepped into the house, giving the older Cat a hug. "I'm doing well; how about you?"

Sam grinned and shut the door, before leading Lucy further into the house. "Oh, you know use old people," he said as he pulled a seat out for her from the dining-room table. "Give us a little sunshine and a breeze and we're alright. Lucy chuckled and nodded, before casting her gaze about the spacious room. It was situated near the back of the house, with the front entrance connecting into it by a short hallway. A 3x3 coffee table lay at the center of the room, with a 3-person couch to the left and to the right. All of this was illuminated by a sunlit window about as wide as Lucy was tall; through the glass lay the backward, where Lucy's mother Sheila could be seen working in a small garden.

"Just go on and sit anywhere," Sam said to Lucy as he began heading to a door beside the outward looking window. "I'll just go let Sheila know you're here." The younger Cat nodded in thanks and sat down on the couch facing the door, anxiously wondering how best to broach the reason she'd come there for. How do you tell someone that the person they nearly adopted was dead? How do you start that conversation?

"_Heh, Mom probably doesn't even remember him. Oh God, what do I do if she doesn't remember him? Should I start with the adoption form, or show that after I tell her I met him?"  
_

Lucy was saved from more of her increasingly-panicked thoughts as the back door opened and Sheila walked in. Her ivory fur and golden-blond hair had dulled somewhat from age, but this merely lent her an earthy look of wisdom gained from a well-lived life. She smiled wide and rushed over, enveloping the younger woman in a powerful hug. "Lucy, how are you? How's my grandson?"

Lucy smiled softly and hugged her mother back, before both women sat down onto the couch. "Hehe, growing like a weed. Although, to tell the truth, so far he's taken more after his father, personality-wise."

Sheila nodded in understanding. "Mmhm, I certainly know what handling that is like. When you and your brother were growing up, Fisk reminded me of your father so much it hurt a bit. They…had the same look in their eyes…"

Lucy looked down, lost in memories of her childhood. Looking back at it now, she wondered in amazement at how normal she and Fisk had turned out. Underage sex, life-threatening mistakes, death; it all seemed almost too much for a person to handle. She idly wondered what kind of childhood Jason had lived; this in turn made her wonder what it was like to grow up with both parents.

A gentle hand on her shoulder quickly brought her back to the present, as Sheila looked at her expectantly. "Uh, I'm sorry, what was that" Lucy asked, embarrassed at having drifted off like that. Sheila rolled her eyes and sighed. "I asked how your brother is. Is he still keeping busy?"

"Oh, right." Lucy leaned back onto the couch, thinking on how best to answer without really answering. "Well, we haven't had a chance to talk very recently, but from what Elizabeth's told me he's been kept pretty busy. I think he has been doing a lot of jobs with Jason, they work well together."

Sheila's smile faltered for a moment, and she too leaned back on the couch with a far-off look in her eyes. "Hm…Jason. There's an odd kid if I ever saw one. I met his mother once, you know; back when James and I were dating. I see a bit too much of old Velona in Jason for my liking." Lucy looked at her mother curiously; this was the first time she had ever heard the name of her aunt from her father's side, and decided to ask more about her sometime.

For now however, she decided that they were getting off-track. "Uh, listen Mom; I came here to ask you about someone I met a couple years ago. His name was Hite, William Hite." This time, Sheila's smile shattered, and she looked at her daughter in a mixture of shock and remorse. She looked over at her husband, who was sitting over on the other couch and looking between the two females in confusion. "Sam, could you please leave for a bit? This is something…private." The Tomcat looked a bit disappointed, but nodded anyway and stood up, casting one last glance at them before turning to leave. As soon as she heard the front door shut and lock Sheila turned back to Lucy. "So…you've met Will. What all do you know?"

Lucy sighed sadly, already wishing that she had just stayed home and burned that damn paper. "Pretty much everything I suppose; more than Fisk actually, although we both met him. Will gave me this," she said as she took out the adoption form from her purse. "Soon before he died…" Sheila looked up at Lucy in shock, her hand frozen in inch from taking the offered piece of paper.

"Will is dead" she repeated back, hoping that she hadn't heard right. At Lucy's hesitant nod she let out a choked sob, eyes growing wet as hot tears welled up in them. Finally the tears broke free and ran down the older Cat's face, her cries of grief filling the otherwise-silent room.

Lucy looked on as her mother cried over a William Hite that Lucy never knew, and for a while she just sat there. After a few moments Sheila's sounds of grief diminished, leaving the suddenly older-seeming woman looking despondently at the paper in her hands. Lucy carefully reached over and placed a comforting hand on her mother's shoulder, prompting her to look up. "H-how did he die" she asked, making Lucy grimace slightly.

"He…drowned…in a work-related accident." Lucy hoped that the older woman would not notice the slight hesitation in her voice. Sheila did not, seemingly lost in thought, a distant look in her eye as she put the paper down onto the coffee table. She sighed softly and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again and looking out the window into the garden.

"I remember when your father first brought Will home to me. He was just a scrawny little cub; couldn't have been more than nine years old. Heh, the first thing I said to James was 'who do you think you are by bringing in strays, the animal shelter?' But the longer Will stayed around, the more I felt that James had done the right thing. He was always such a polite, helpful kid; always so happy to help with chores around the house. I remember that he looked forward to meeting you so much; of course, you weren't born yet, so we didn't know it would be twins. But whenever his warm blue eyes fell on my belly, well…it just seemed to make me and your father even more excited to have you. At least he got to see you two before he died…"

Despite her personal experiences with Will, Lucy felt herself tearing up a bit at the way her mother spoke of him when he was younger. "There's something I want…no, need to know. Why didn't he stay with us? Why didn't you go through with the adoption?"

Sheila turned away from the window and looked Lucy straight in the eye. "To be honest, I don't really understand what happened myself. All I know is that once your father died, everything changed…"

* * *

_32 years ago_

"A visitor?"

The nurse nodded once as Sheila tilted her head curiously, the harsh hospital light dimmed down to a comfortable level. In her arms lay her recently-born kittens, their tiny forms soundly sleeping. The new mother shifted them slightly in her arms, before telling the nurse to show the visitor in. The nurse nodded again before exiting the room, leaving Sheila to silently wonder who her visitor was.

She didn't have long to wonder however, as a moment later a young Cougar of about 12, tall for his age, opened the door and stepped in, careful not to make too much noise. His blue eyes instantly fell onto the pair of sleeping kittens, and a small smile appeared on his face. "Twins…"

Sheila smiled and nodded, before motioning him over. "Come on over here Will and see them. A boy and a girl; the girl was born just a bit earlier, in case you were curious."

William Hite hesitantly walked over to the bed and looked down at the sleeping bundles, unexpected emotions welling up in his heart. Reaching down he brushed his hand gently against the male kitten's head, making him stir slightly in his sleep. "They are so…small" he said in awe of them. They were the first babies he had ever seen before, and the fact that they were the children of the man he thought of as a father only added to the sudden bout of protectiveness building up within him.

Sheila giggled softly at this statement. "Of course they are silly, they were just born!" She giggled again as William blushed in embarrassment, and carefully held the small bundles out. "Here; I want you to be the first person other than me and the hospital staff to hold them." The Cougar looked up from the kittens at her in surprise.

"I am honored. Thank you." He looked back down and reached out, carefully taking the young girl from the older woman's arm and into his own. The child squirmed a bit and slowly opened her eyes; instantly they locked onto William's nervous face, and she mewed curiously at the new person.

Something inside William changed in that moment; an overwhelming sense of protectiveness sprang up inside him, washing away the nervousness he had previously been feeling. Gently running a hand though the kitten's soft fur, he looked up at a smiling Sheila inquisitively. "What is her name?"

"I haven't decided yet. I only just settled on the boy's name when the nurse came in to tell me you were here." William looked from Sheila to the male kitten, which had by now also woken up and started looking at William curiously. "What is his name?"

"Fisk" she replied, a thoughtful expression on her face. She looked from William to the kitten in his arms and back at him, before finally coming to a decision. "Would…you like to name her?" William looked away from young Fisk back to Sheila, a stunned expression once more on his face.

"Are you sure?" At her nod he looked down at the smiling kitten thoughtfully. This was a great honor, to be trusted enough by a mother to be allowed to name one of the children, and he did not want to let her faith go to waste!

Several minutes passed with the occupants of the room in silence, as William carefully deliberated on his choice. Finally a small smile graced his face as he made his decision. "Lucy. Her name will be Lucy." The newly-named kitten giggled, seemingly happy with the name, as Sheila smiled at the name.

"Lucy…I like it." After a few more moments the new mother motioned for Lucy to be handed back to her, a request young William hesitantly obliged.

Once nestled back in beside her brother Lucy quickly fell asleep once more, just in time to miss a tall stranger walk in. A scarily tall Cat ducked down into the room, casting a shadow down onto William and Sheila. His nearly emaciated form was clothed in a white business suit and white coat; on the left breast of the coat was the Egyptian symbol for eternity. His thin face, gaunt and wrinkled, looked down on the room's occupants dispassionately.

Sheila unconsciously moved her kittens further away from the stranger; William however, looked at him with a mixture of resignation and hunger. The old Cat focused on the Cougar; a look of pride, the first sign of emotion for him to show since he made his presence known, briefly passed over his face. "Come Villiam; I have much vork to accomplish, and you are taking up a great deal of my precious time."

"In a moment Dr. Amedeo, I will be done in a moment." William looked back at Sheila's confused form, a look of confusion on her face. "Well then, I guess this is good-bye." He began to walk away from the hospital bed, before Sheila's voice called out to him. "Wait, where are you going? Who is this man?"

William paused and looked back at Sheila and the baby's, his face settled into a grim smile. "He is the key to my past, my present, and my future. Goodbye Mrs. Black; I truly wish things had gone differently. I wish I could stay with you and the twins and have a happy life. But I cannot, not yet. Not until all are safe." After saying this William quickly turned away and left with Amedeo, a tear-stained face the only sign that he heard Sheila's frantic cries for him to come back.

* * *

"And that was the last time I ever saw him." Sheila stopped talking and looked from the paper up at Lucy. Their tears had long since run out, leaving the pair of females with aching chests and tired eyes. "Eventually, as I grew into the role of mother to you and your brother, William faded into the back of my mind, forgotten until the day I received a letter. It was an invitation; a wedding invitation actually, to William's wedding. For some reason I can't explain, I didn't go, and ever since then I've regretted that decision."

Lucy sat back, stunned by all that she had just learned. To think, that the very same person who had tried to kill her four years ago had also been the person to name her! The thought made Lucy feel sick; and yet, saddened too. Hearing about what White had been like as a child, and how close he and her mother had been, it made Lucy realize how different things could have been if her father had never died.

A new question wormed its way into her mind, one she just had to ask. "Who did he marry? Do you know?" Sheila looked away for a moment, the thoughtful expression on her face making it obvious that she was trying to remember. After a moment she looked back at Lucy with a sad look on her face. "I'm sorry Lucy, I can't remember. I'd been on my honeymoon with Sam when I got the letter, so I was preoccupied. I believe that she may have been Asian though."

Lucy sighed sadly and took the adoption form back, before standing up. Sheila stood as well, and together they made their way back to the front door. Before she left Lucy turned around and embraced her mother in a loving hug, one Sheila gratefully returned. "I'm so sorry for never telling you about him before…"

Lucy stepped away from the embrace and smiled sadly. "It's okay, you never needed to. Besides; the past is in the past, afterall."

A/N: And there we go, another chapter. I hope all of you have been enjoying this story, because I've been putting a lot of work into it.

Next time in Original Days 2; Asura plots, Ryan calls a meeting of the directors, and Jason realizes the full consequences of his choice.


	15. Mechanized Machinations, Part One

A/N: This should be an interesting chapter. I'm going to be trying a couple new techniques in it, to see how well they work for me. Tell me what y'all think in your reviews.

Original Days 2

Chapter 14: Mechanized Maneuverings Pt. 1

* * *

This is Lord Deva:

Steel. Boron carbide-plated Alumina. Electrodrivers and dual-phase crystal circuitry.

Within them, the remnants of a living being.

He doesn't breath; machines do that for him. He doesn't need to eat, though he can for appearances; otherwise all nutrients are obtained intravenously. He cannot laugh or cry, though he often will emulate them in order to be perceived as normal.

A lifetime ago he was a person. A lifetime ago he was a handsome young Cat with friends, a family, a business to inherit; a lifetime ago he had things to love, and things to hate. Now, after the September 11th attacks took his mother and crushed his body, he has none of these things.

Instead, he has purpose. It has been built into him.

He is built to intimidate. The resemblance that his armored exoskeleton harboring his flesh and blood shares with a Cat's skeleton is entirely intentional. His burgundy-red eyes and bone-colored body capable of inspiring fear of a primal sort from even the most hardened of opponents. His is a form born of childhood's infinite nightmares.

He is built to dominate. Ceramic polymer plates protecting limb and torso and face can stop a three-round burst from an M-16 at anything except point-blank range. His mechanical arms are two times stronger than organic.

He is built to eradicate. Those robotic hands with thin, robotic fingers generate enough strength to crush a Wolf's skull, while dexterous enough to expertly handle the most deadly of bladed weapons: the sword.

Two reside within his silver-white trench coat; two more hide as backup weapons within his onyx desk.

He has never made a sword. He has never bought one, or traded for one, nor has he recovered one that was lost. Every weapon he has, each and all, he has taken from the dead bodies of people he has killed.

Personally.

He has many, many such trophies; the two he carries with him are merely his favorites. The Katana belonged to a particularly feisty Tanuki, who felt that her mastery of the traditional Japanese styles would allow her to win any competition and beat any challenger; she was wrong. The other belonged to a former member of his personal guard, a Filipino Cat, who tried to assassinate Deva with a Pinuti when it was discovered Deva destroyed his hometown and was using its population as slave-labor. Deva personally slaughtered the would-be assassin in front of his family, with his own weapon. These are murders he recalls with so much pleasure that merely touching these souvenirs with his hands of steel and ceramic brings him something resembling joy.

But only resembling.

He remembers joy. He remembers anger, and frustration. He remembers grief and sorrow.

He doesn't actually feel them. Not anymore.

He didn't design himself to.

* * *

"Deva, have all of the repairs been completed?"

Burgundy eyes shifted focus from the Bat corpse before him to the ancient doctor beside him. The rest of Deva soon followed suit as he turned to look at the emaciated Cat. Dr. Amedeo was the reason he was still alive. Well, mostly alive. It had been his excellent medical abilities that had kept Deva in a half-living state long enough for the dying Cat to construct a mechanical apparatus capable of supporting his body.

Not for the first time, Deva wondered just how old the long-time family acquaintance was. In the whole 19 years of his life, Deva had never noticed any significant change in how the doctor looked, discounting the face-mounted breathing apparatus added soon before his eleventh birthday.

Deva stepped away from the construction table and moved over to another, smaller table, where he began to strip himself of his work tools.

"Yes, the repairs to Copperhead are complete, and the modifications are installed. You may now bring him back."

Amedeo nodded in satisfaction and moved from the open doorway into the lab, to the table on which lay their shared pride and joy. Formerly a member of the U.S. Navy Seals, Copperhead had been one of the first recruited members of the Organization, and aside from Amedeo and the White family was also the longest lasting.

Now he had become a weapon, an emissary of death, the living extension of Deva's will. And so, when Deva witnessed Copperhead cut down in the line of duty before his very eyes, he felt it was only right to bring the loyal soldier back.

Amedeo began his own work on the body, before glancing up from it to Deva. "I believe that you have other business to attend to, do you not?"

Deva smiled knowingly and began to apply his synthskin. Piece by piece the fearsome visage was covered up by one that no one could ever think of as threatening.

* * *

Slowly, ever so slowly, the newly-attached robotic hand flexed. Servos whirred as the mechanical fingers, shaped perfectly to emulate the manual dexterity of real fingers, closed into the form of a fist, before splaying back out.

Extending from the hand, the metal and ceramic arm moved up and down. The elbow bent, and unbent, before twisting around just a little less than a normal elbow would allow. Moving further up, a mechanized shoulder went through the motions an organic shoulder would. Left and right, up and down, as well as every angle in-between. Satisfied that her patient had adequately adjusted to his new arm, the overseeing medical technician powered down the monitoring equipment and stepped over to a nearby wash basin.

"Congratulations Mr. Black. You are now the proud user of ShiroTech's latest in Medtech replacement arms."

Jason stood up from the operating table and moved to a nearby full-body mirror to better see how he now looked. A fairly tall, broad-shouldered Cat stared out at him. Pure black fur covered most of his body, except for a football-shaped patch of white over his left eye and white tips to his ears.

Four angry-looking scars, roughly a foot long each, ran diagonally from his right shoulder down across his chest to where the ribs end. A similar scar ran from the middle-right of his forehead, down over his right eye, ending at the bottom of his jaw line. Numerous other scars covered his body from head-to-toe, but none were as large or eye-catching as those five.

Above all of these however, the most terrible injury was his right arm. Or lack thereof.

The desperate fight against White aboard the Kumo had taken its toll on the limb. Fractures had occurred all along its length, particularly around the shoulder and elbow. On top of this, the jagged fragments of bone had torn and ripped the muscles and tendons around them, leaving the arm wholly unrecoverable.

And so, when Akira learned that Jason had suffered such a grievous injury in the line of duty, he had immediately ordered for a replacement limb to be crafted, free of charge. Jason had to admit as he flexed the hand once more, that the electrum-finished Alumina plating was quite impressive looking.

Ignoring the leaving technician, Jason began to don the clothing lying beside the mirror, after two days of separation eager to see his loved ones once more. Slipping on the pair of black double-layered silk pants, he next put on a snow-white shirt with wrist-length sleeves. After this he hesitated for a moment, before grabbing his black duster and leaving for the armory. His fight with White had taught him an important lesson.

* * *

"…and so sir, after retrieving Akira from the enemy craft, Angela and I returned to the mostly-sunk ship to find Jason. His unconscious body was found on a piece of wreckage, and no sign of White could be found."

Fisk finished his report and stood calmly waiting for the recently-arrived Ryan to speak. To Fisk's right stood Angela, who stood a good deal less calmly.

Before the pair of agents paced Ryan, clearly agitated by the events of two days prior. Soon after hearing of the attack on the Kumo on the morning news, and after the inevitable calls from the other directors demanding answers, Ryan had decided that he needed to take stock of the situation where it was happening.

And so he had gone to New York City, to debrief the agents he had sent nearly two weeks beforehand.

Stopping before a large TV screen set into the wall, Ryan sighed and focused his attention on the two agents before him. Off to the side, near the mammoth black slab Akira called a work-desk, Ana conversed quietly with Church and another member of Ryan's security detail, a tan Fox by the name of Leo Daverra.

Ryan regarded the pair of agents with calculating eyes, carefully considering the report he had just been given. Though they were his two most trusted agents, he still had to take into account the possibility of them lying to him. He certainly had gotten used to lying to them, afterall.

"And you are absolutely positive that it was White who led the attack?"

Angela and Fisk nodded, causing a grim frown to mar Ryan's thoughtful face. The sound of a door swooshing open drew the attention of all present to the entrance, to see Akira step in. "Sorry I am late. I got caught up with a fascinating project. Not to mention taking advantage of the sudden drop in many companies' stock prices to buy them up." At once all in the room knew he was referring to those companies that had lost their ceos during the attack.

Ryan shrugged at this and turned to address the whole room. "If what I have just been told of White's apparent resurrection is true, than not just the country, but perhaps the entire world faces an unprecedented threat. We must move quickly if the Company is to survive."

"Excuse me, but did you say resurrection?"

Akira stepped forward until he was directly in front of Ryan. He looked up, gazing directly into the taller Cat's eyes. Ryan gazed back, unflinching. "Yes I did. Why?"

Akira looked away, considering something. Next time he spoke, his voice had lost its usual air of playfulness, changing into something that Angela did not like at all.

"Because, Mr. Tobs, I know a story, of a doctor who worked towards immortality. Years ago, a man by the name of Amedeo perpetrated horrific experiments, brutal procedures, all in the name of discovering a way to bring the dead back. Of course, he never came close to succeeding in such an impossible task, and he died a lonely and broken old Cat. I suppose a terrorist organization such as O.F.T.A.N.A.M.P. could have taken the research he'd left behind…"

Trailing away, Akira looked around and noticed Angela with a thoughtful expression on her face. Fisk noticed as well and turned to look at the Bat. "Angela, is something wrong?"

"I don't know. It's just…that name, Amedeo. It sounds familiar. I think Jason mentioned him once."

As she said this, both Fisk and Ryan looked up, as if suddenly remembering something drastically important.

"Jason!"

* * *

"Hey look, it's him."

The bored guard lazily followed his partner's gaze, before snapping to attention as the dark figure strode from the elevator down the hall towards them.

The figure wore a pair of black silk pants, armor-plated at the shins and knees. Over the white shirt was a black Modular Tactical Vest, outfitted with neck and shoulder guards. Over this went a black duster, flaring out behind the figure as he quickly walked, his heavy steps emphasized by his steel-toed boots.

The two guards saluted as their new commander stopped before them. One turned to begin disengaging the security mechanisms on the door behind them. The other began addressing the new arrival.

"Sir, we received orders last night to be expecting you. It is an honor to serve under you."

Jason Black nodded in understanding at the guard, having picked out before he was even halfway out of the elevator the discreet red eye hidden on each guard's uniform. The symbol for the Organization.

Inside, Jason laughed as the reality of this struck him. He'd been carrying that symbol his whole life, within the confines of his own skull.

The second guard stepped from the door as it slid open, revealing Asura's cell in all its greyness. Asura looked up from her cot, eyes roaming over Jason's body to eventually settle on the artificial hand. She smiled.

"Electrum finish? Very nice taste, Jason. But, isn't the ballistic vest a bit much?"

Jason shrugged self-consciously, stepped into the room, and motioned to the guards to close the door. Once they had done so he turned back to Asura, doing his best to hide the sudden queasiness in his gut. Now that he was finally here, finally recognizing what he had done, a sliver of self-doubt began to fester within the thermonuclear reactor that was his heart.

"I have joined the Organization."

Asura looked at him closely, examining him. For several minutes her eyes once more roamed over Jason's body, taking in every movement, every twitch, every contour. Finally she moved up to his face.

She smiled.

"So you have; awesome. In that case, what's the plan?"

Jason reached into a pocket and took from it a silver cellphone. Flipping it open he dialed a number and set the device on speakerphone.

"We're about to find out."

He held out the device between them. "White, I'm with Asura."

Nothing but white noise came from it at first, until suddenly a deep voice, a growling voice that sent chills down Jason's spine, responded.

"_Asura? Let me hear your voice."_

"Father!" Jason watched as the darkness, the violent, manic aura that had been around Asura ever since he had first met her, simply melted away with that one word, leaving behind simply a young daughter overjoyed to hear her father's voice once more. He also noticed that a similar change occurred in White, although the change was far less pronounced because he couldn't see White's face, only his voice.

"_My daughter, it is so wonderful to hear your voice once more. You sound the worse for wear however."_

Asura shrugged and looked up at Jason with…embarrassment? "That's probably from when Jason slammed my head against the metal table for not answering his questions. Or perhaps from when Fisk nearly choked me to death for threatening to turn his elder daughter into a sex-slave."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, before a weary sigh was heard, making Asura giggle. _"It seems that you and I shall need to have a talk once we are reunited. For now, however, we shall move on. The next step, Mr. Black, will require much cunning and subtlety on your part. My…informant has revealed to me that Ryan Tobs, the Director of Mission Resources, has come to New York City to debrief your group. Go to him and convince him that the present situation is of great enough importance as to require a meeting of the directors."_

Jason quickly put two and two together. "And once they're all together…it'll be th' world's largest bull's-eye!" A grin started to spread over his face.

"_Yes, basically. The Company is a threat to me. And the best way to destroy a threat is to destroy the head. And once they are dead, the company will need new, younger leadership. Perhaps you?"_

The grin on Jason's face grew, as he imagined himself in charge of the company. Directors could date or marry anyone they wished to. "As long as I get the cure, and I don't have to kill Fisk or Angela, I'll do whatever you ask of me."

Asura looked up at Jason and smirked as the phone went dead. "This is where the fun begins."

* * *

A/N: A new chapter, a new style for me to try out. Events unfold, new connections are forged, and Jason faces a new task to complete to get what he seeks.


	16. Mechanized Machinations, Part Two

A/N: I am not Jay Naylor.

Original Days 2

Chapter 15: Mechanized Machinations Pt. 2

* * *

"I don't know. It's just…that name, Amedeo. It sounds familiar. I think Jason mentioned him once."

As she said this, both Fisk and Ryan looked up, as if suddenly remembering something drastically important.

"Jason!"

"Did someone say my name?" Jason strode through the swooshing door, on his face a strangely grim smirk. To Fisk, it reminded him strangely of the look his father's friend and partner Robert Kelso had given him, when they first met. Roughly a decade later they met again, and Fisk joined the company.

"Jason!" Angela rushed forward and enveloped the tall Cat in a bone-crushing hug, discarding any fear of presenting a compromising image to Ryan and the others. "Thank God you're okay! Wh-when we found you, you looked nearly dead! And…and your arm…"

Jason comfortingly wrapped his arms around the crying Bat, mechanical hand carefully hidden by a black armored glove. "Hey, stop crying. I'm here, aren't I? Right here with you and the others." Something in the way Jason said others caught Angela's attention. She pulled away from his embrace and looked at him strangely, but before she could say anything Fisk came over and clapped a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"It's good to have you back with us Jason. Things were getting too quiet around here."

Jason threw Fisk a smirk. "Yeah, well, you don't expect me to let you have all the fun, do ya Fish?"

Jason stepped away from Fisk and Angela and looked over at Akira and Ryan. "Hey Clear, Bossman, how ya doin'? Workin' hard? Hardly workin'?"

Akira shrugged. "Aside from nearly getting killed by a cyborg deadman and his ninja Bat sidekick two days ago, I think I'm doing fairly well. I've been missing our spars though."

Jason nodded sheepishly and walked over to Ryan. "Yeah, I'll be sure to spar with you as soon as the whole White problem is taken care of." Done talking with Akira, Jason's smirk quickly disappeared as he turned to face his superior. "Ryan, I'm guessing they've already told ya that White's back?"

Ryan nodded and said "yes, but we can focus on finding out **how** once he's dead again." Jason nodded, gaining a thoughtful expression.

"I agree" he said, surprising those around them who knew Jason well. He and Ryan had **never **agreed before.

Jason continued. "White is back and in full-on madman mode. This is a threat that the company-no, the **country**, has never faced before. This is too big a situation for one director to deal with." Ryan stayed silent, curious about where Jason was taking this. He only had to wait a moment for Jason to satisfy this curiosity.

"As much as I hate to say this, I mean I **really **hate saying this, we need to call the directors together."

Immediately everyone in the room froze, looking at Jason in varying levels on surprise. Church and his bodyguard partner Leo shared a look, before quietly making their way to the exit. Akira looked back and forth between Jason and Ryan, realizing this was bigger than it sounded. Angela walked over, gently putting a hand on Jason's shoulder. Fisk on the other hand backed away slightly from Jason, not sure what to make of him.

Ryan was just plain shocked. "You…want me to call the directors together? Is this a joke!? The directors **never **meet, never converse face-to-face; I don't even know what the others look like, and vice-versa!"

Jason's stare suddenly hardened into a piercing glare. A bit too late, Ryan realized that though he was technically taller than Jason, the younger Cat seemed to tower over him, in more ways than in just stature. Something had changed in the Cat since they had last met.

"I know that what I have proposed has never happened before." Jason swept his gaze over all the inhabitants of the room, lingering just a bit longer on Angela before returning his attention to Ryan. "I know that to gather the three directors of the company together is to put you three in danger at once. But damn it, this is bigger than that! Can't any of you see the situation for what it is!? White, the greatest agent the company has ever had, and its greatest traitor, is now the leader of what might be the most dangerous terrorist group in existence! We have no fucking time for protocol and rules! We have to do whatever it takes to deal with this threat and achieve our goals!"

The room fell into a hush has Jason finished, leaving its inhabitants to think in silence.

Fisk looked at Jason's turned-away back in awe, before his thoughts slowly darkened as the exact words Jason had spoken sunk in: whatever it takes.

Ryan tried to look Jason in the eye, but after just a few seconds faltered under the fierce crimson gaze. "Very well, you've…convinced me. I will contact Directors Calfuray and Alden within the hour. I will discuss a mutually-agreeable location for the meeting with them then."

He turned away from Jason and addressed Akira. "Naturally, as the principle current target, you will be expected to attend as well. All of you, in fact."

Akira, Fisk, and Angela all nodded in understanding, as the grim smirk once more found itself on Jason's face. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

* * *

Angela stepped into her suite, quickly flicking on the lights to reveal a moderately-sized living area, with a connecting kitchen to her left and a bedroom to the right. As the door slid closed behind her she shrugged off her blue jacket and threw it onto the nearby two-person couch as she walked by it to the kitchen. She needed coffee; she needed to do something, anything, to keep her mind off of recent events.

Just as she turned the coffeemaker on, knocking came from her door; someone wanted in. She froze for a moment, debating on whether or not to let whoever it was in, before Jason's scratchy baritone voice could be heard on the other side. "Angel, let me in. Please." A moment later the door had opened, and Angela and Jason were once more in each other's arms.

Their lips met, and the universe became, once more, perfect.

* * *

This is Angela Faunt:

A surprisingly accomplished young Bat, who despite widespread, sometimes violent opposition for her albinism, graduated at the top of her class at Harvard Medical School, before joining the United States Marine Corps as a field medic. Many of her university friends and colleagues considered this a step down at best, an idiotic blunder at worst, but to Angela it was merely the use of the skills she had earned where they were most needed. Eventually she had found her way to the company, becoming one of its best agents.

As she stood there however, in the strong, fiercely protective embrace of the Cat she had briefly thought she would lose, she was neither Harvard graduate nor U.S. Marine nor clandestine operative.

She can still play at them—she continues to proudly display her Harvard certificate of graduation in her office, still handles emergencies-medical or otherwise-with the straightforward determination she had learned as a Marine, and does not shy away from leveraging her impressive track record of successful missions to get people to stop annoying her—but her inmost self, the most fundamental, unbreakable core of her being, is something completely different from any previous role.

She is Jason Black's lover.

Yet lover is a word too weak to carry the truth of her; lover is such a small word, such a common word, a word that can come from a downturned mouth with so many petty, unpleasant echoes. For Angela Faunt, saying "I am Jason Black's lover" is saying no more or less than saying "I am alive."

She had loved him ever since that cold October night, nearly two years ago, when he had held her sobbing body in his arms and whispered sweet comfort into her ears. Her love grew as she watched him finish more and more missions for the company, his experience and renown growing with each one, making him more and more of a man. A young man, to be sure, nearly five years her junior, but every inch a man. A man who knew exactly what he wanted and was honest enough to simply ask for it; a man strong enough to share his deepest fears with her without shame.

But though she loves Jason without reservation, she is not blind to his faults. He is slow, and quick to anger, and often keeps his problems to himself with a carefree mask. But these faults just make her love him more, for his every flaw merely enhances the greatness within him; his capacity for joy and uplifting humor, his generosity of spirit, his passionate devotion not only to her but to every living being under the company's protective watch.

This is why Angela will not allow their relationship to become public knowledge. Jason **needs** to be an agent. Protecting people and the country they live in is what he was born for; to take that away from him would destroy him.

And yet, it had not been until she had found his bloody, beaten, broken body in the floating wreckage of Akira's ship that she even came to realize all of this. And she didn't want any of it to end.

* * *

Angela reluctantly separated her lips from Jason's, making him look at her questioningly. She reached around him and pressed the locking button on the door, before returning her gaze to his.

"When we found you that night, and you looked so…**dead**, I-I felt like my heart was breaking." She ran a hand down Jason's right arm, curiosity and concern flowing through her, until Jason took her hand in his own.

"When White had beaten me down, had me down on the floor and incapable of fighting back anymore, I thought I would never get to see you or any of the others again. I don't know why he left before killing me and I don't care! All I know is that I'm here with you right now, and I don't want it to end."

She smiled sadly at this. "Jason, yo-" A finger on her lips silenced her, as Jason stared at her, eyes filled with unknown intent.

"Please, Angel, listen to me for a moment. I, I know what you were about to say; the same thing you've always said. But, you just don't understand! Being so close to death, it's…shown me what really matters in life. Angel, I love you."

She froze at his proclamation. He loved her. Her mind repeated this over and over, echoing within her skull. Never before had he actually said it in such a direct manner, such a sincere manner. She looked into his eyes, searching them for any sign of deceit.

She found none, only love and burning devotion. And only then did she find the strength to say what she needed to say.

"Oh, Jason…I love you too."

She watched as what she had said registered in his mind. Her heart caught when she saw first of all the wild, almost explosive joy that dawned on his face, because that meant that everything that had scarred his body had not managed to scar his heart.

And she watched as that joy faded into fiery resolution, as he seemed to make some unknown decision.

And then before she even realized that he had moved Jason had once more bent down and claimed her lips with his own. Angela wrapped her arms tight around his neck, letting the passionate kiss wipe away all the fear, all the pain, all the suffering of the past few days, until it was just her, and him, and their love.

* * *

Jason lurched upright in bed, gasping, staring blindly into the threatening darkness of night.

How they had screamed for him, screamed at him—begging, crying for mercy as their strength failed them and he was left standing alone in a field of burnt and twisted bones, how at the last she could only whimper out _Jason, I'm sorry_—thundered inside his head like a thunderstorm, drowning out any and all other thoughts, blinding him to the contours of the night-shrouded room, deafening him to every sound except the hammering of his heart.

His hand of flesh and fur grasped at unfamiliar sweat-damped sheets of silk that had collected around his waist. Finally he remembered where he was.

He half turned, and there she was, sheets of ivory-white hair falling across her face and fanning out across her pillow. Her eyes were closed, a small, contented smile playing across her delicate face. And when he saw the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he turned away and buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

The hot tears that ran down his face were tears of gratitude. Angela was with him, after so long really with him. It was this thought that finally drove the sounds of screaming and burning from his mind.

In silence so deep he could hear the whirring of the Electrodrivers in his mechanical hand, he carefully disentangled himself from the sheets and began to get dressed. Careful not to wake the sleeping Bat up, Jason quickly leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead, before standing back up and turning for the door.

He had to get out of there. He had to think. He had to talk to someone, someone he could trust with his secrets.

* * *

The lamps to the left and to the right of the onyx desk cast an overly-bright, harsh light over the area, casting shadows over and across the face and body of the Cat behind the desk. The darkness aged and thinned the face, making him seem old and artificial.

Akira looked up wearily from the report he had been reading, as the automatic door leading into his private office swished open. A moment later his expression brightened considerably as Jason strode through the doorway; dark clothing and fur making the older Cat seem to meld into the darkened office.

"Jason, my friend! Come in, have a seat! How do you like your new arm? Not malfunctioning already, is it?"

Jason gratefully took the offered seat, shaking his head no at the question. "The arm is amazing Clear, better than I had thought artificial arms could be actually. Although, it certainly freaked Angela out when she first saw it…"

Akira grinned sneakily. "Oh, Angela you say? Why, whatever reason could you have to be taking your shirt off around her?"

Jason blushed and quickly thought up an excuse that would work. "Well, the same reason I take my shirt off around you; sparring." Akira smiled a warm, knowing smile at Jason, making the older Cat shift in his seat uncomfortably.

"Jason, my friend, do you really think I would not be aware of the comings and goings of those within my own tower? Or that I would not think to do research on those who are protecting me? I have known of your special relationship with Miss Faunt since the second day you were here. What's more, I wholeheartedly support it."

Jason looked at Akira with a mixture of surprise and relief. "You do? And you haven't, well, told anyone?"

The businessman once more smiled knowingly, and with a hidden button press sealed all the exits from the room. "Silly Jason, I already have said I support your relationship with the lovely Faunt. I know what it is like to be in love, and I know that it is something to be cherished, not discarded as a vulnerability. As far as I can tell, your problem can be stated as thus: do you love Angela or the company more?"

Once Jason heard it posed like this his mind refocused, tunneling onto Akira's warm, smiling face. There was no question, no question at all which he loved more.

He cast his gaze down to the desk, at the various papers on it. For several minutes he just sat there, Akira waiting patiently nearby. Finally Jason looked up.

"Thank you for listening Clear. An understanding ear was just what I needed."

Akira nodded, putting his work up. "The pleasure was all mine. I'm just happy to know I was able to help, at least a bit, the Cat who saved my life. Although, I don't think that was the only reason you came here tonight. What else is on your mind?"

Jason fidgeted in his seat, as if struggling with some immense question. Finally he spoke once more. "Earlier today, you mentioned to the others a scientist called Amedeo. How…how much do you know of him?"

Akira lifted an eyebrow wryly. "Oh? What makes you curious, do you think immortality sounds appealing?"

Jason looked down, licking his suddenly-dry lips nervously. "No, not really. The truth is, when I was just a newborn, I was born…blind. Something about not getting enough oxygen to the eyes for them to develop properly, or something like that. My parents were prepared to…euthanize me, until Amedeo came along. He told my parents that he could give me working eyes; eyes that would never falter, or deteriorate."

At this point Jason pointed to his crimson eyes. "Naturally wanting to avoid a scandal, my parents agreed. And so, here I am."

To his credit, Akira looked only slightly pitifully at Jason. Mostly, however, he just looked saddened.

"That sucks, Jason. To think that anyone could be willing to do that, and especially to a newborn! It makes me even prouder that my parents refused to work with him." Akira looked up at the clock nearby and winced. "I do believe that it's about time we both went to bed. I've stayed up way too late going over my recent acquisitions, and I have the oddest feeling you didn't get much rest while with the lovely Faunt."

Jason play-punched the chuckling Akira, and together the two friends left the dark private office. They walked in comfortable silence for several minutes, before Jason split off down a side hallway to Akira's personal library. Akira stopped and turned to the quickly retreating back.

"Are you not going to bed?"

Jason stopped and turned around, flashing Akira a grin to hide his uneasiness. "Nah, I'm going to stay up a bit. I feel like reading for a bit." Akira accepted this answer and continued on, leaving Jason alone in the dark hallway. Jason's grin immediately faltered, as he looked around the area nervously. He quickly started walking again. He couldn't go to sleep. Not yet. Not for a while.

Because when he slept he dreamed. And when he dreamed, Jason could not hide from his choice.

* * *

A/N: And there we have it, the 15th chapter of Original Days 2! Please leave reviews; I would love to hear how I handled the romantic parts, and how I could improve. See ya'll next week!


	17. Why We Fight, and Hidden Revelations

A/N: I'm not Jay Naylor. So there. Also, the character of Leo Daverra is not my own, but instead belongs to Anonymous Nin, who was kind enough to let me use his character. Leo's personality and story, however, are completely of my own creation.

Original Days 2

Chapter 16: What We Fight For, Hidden Revelations

* * *

"So, what's it like working with a guy like Jason?"

Church stopped in surprise at the question, his glass merely an inch from pouring its alcoholic contents into his mouth. He slowly set the beer down and answered his companion, a tan-furred fox by the name of Leo Daverra, with a surprisingly steady gaze and a hushed voice.

"What do you mean 'what's it like'? He is just another agent, like you or me."

Rolling his eyes, Leo drained his own drink and motioned the nearest waitress over. "Hey Babe, some more _bironga_, over here!" Ignoring the rather rude gesture sent his way by the irate waitress, he leaned back into his chair and looked around their choice of dive.

It had been perfectly clear from the first step in that 119 Bar was the kind of place to go when you felt like indulging that little voice in your head that just wants to scream a righteous "fuck it all". The main room was pitch black, reeked with the acrid stench of years' worth of beer sweat mixed with Marlboro smoke, and thundered with the sounds of G 'n' R. The other two rooms were little better, with the fake wood paneling, sallow lighting, and ratty couches making them feel more like college rec rooms than parts of an actual business. Church personally disliked the place, but Leo seemed to be quite familiar with it; and the waitresses, if the slaps he received from all four of them when the pair of agents had entered was any indication.

Leo lazily watched the Rabbit waitress walk over with a new drink and nearly slam it onto the wobbly wood table, only turning his attention back to Church once the Rabbit was gone.

"Hell, what do ya mean he's just like any other agent? This is Jason Black we're talking about! He's the bad hombre that stopped that drug trafficking ring in Seattle! Beat up those Irish terrorists that were planning to blow up parliament and blame the U.S.! Blew up that Al Qaeda training facility in Moscow!"

"Hey, I was there in Moscow" Church said indignantly. He finished off his own drink and motioned for another one before turning to Leo with a sour expression on his Wolf muzzle. "I was on that mission too, and I'll tell you right now that Fisk was the one who actually completed the mission. Jason was merely providing tactical support."

Once more the Fox rolled his honey-brown eyes. "Eh, I suppose Fisk's pretty cool. But he's such a damn _Ojete_! Always so damn serious, and stern. No fun, no fun at all." Leo grabbed his drink from the table and chugged it down, purposefully ignoring his companion. It's not that Leo had anything against the elder Black, he thought the guy was a great leader. It is just that he thought Fisk seriously needed to get in touch with his kickass side, like Jason was.

To Leo, Jason was like some kind of great hero out of a movie or book, always stopping the bad guys and saving the day just in the nick of time. It was his bold character and nearly-heroic exploits that had gotten Leo interested in the company in the first place. Fisk was the quieter, calmer of the two, all business. Leo didn't actually know him very well, but he seemed like the stereotypical strong, silent type. At least when on a mission anyway.

The Fox fished a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, taking a deep pull before exhaling and looking back to Church "Come on, you gotta have more of an opinion on the guy than just that he's 'just another agent'. I mean, you've worked together for what, four years?"

"Three actually, and then he started working as Ryan's personal guard."

Both Church and Leo flinched and looked up, so engrossed in their conversation that they had not even noticed that someone had been able to sneak up on them. Standing to their side was a smirking Ana, dark blue leather jacket contrasting nicely with her golden-blond fur. "Hey guys, mind if I join you?"

The grin on Leo's face could have outshone Las Vegas. He quickly pushed a chair out and motioned for the Dog to have a seat. "We don't mind at all, Senorita. Perhaps you could answer my question, since Mr. Stick-up-his-ass here won't.

Church sighed quietly, knowing that Leo wouldn't stop bugging him until he got a satisfactory answer. "Well fine then. Jason is a good friend, someone I'm glad to call one of mine. He'd gladly take a bullet for a friend. To be honest, that's his biggest problem." Ignoring Leo's confused expression and Ana's concerned expression, Church took a sip from his drink, wetting his lips before continuing. "The agents of the company, you two, me, Ryan, Angela, Fisk, we're all friends, right? We work together, we grab some drinks to relax together, we invite each other to weddings and birthdays and a dozen other kinds of celebrations, right?"

Hesitantly, Leo nodded in confirmation. "I sure as hell wouldn't want to work with a bunch of jackasses, that's for sure."

Church nodded sadly. "Right. But if to complete the mission one of us had to sacrifice another, we would. Hell, I'd gladly sacrifice my own life right now if it meant taking down White."

"So would I" Leo said quickly, to which Ana added "of course we would. We all signed on knowing that death could happen at any time and from anyone, even our friends and allies. Any agent would do the same."

Their Wolf elder nodded, happy with their answers. "Exactly; any agent…except Jason. Jason is loyal to people, not principles. Unreasonably loyal. If he had to make a choice between saving a friend and saving, say, the president, he would save the friend without a second thought. Hell, probably without a first thought to be honest."

Ana and Leo shared a look, each thinking similar thoughts: "_how did someone like that become an agent?"_ Leo turned from his companion back to Church. "Surely you're…exaggerating a bit, right? I mean, how could anyone live like that?"

Church leaned back in his chair, emptying the last bit of his beer into his mouth and swirling it thoughtfully as he considered the question. "I may be wrong in this, but it seems to me that Jason doesn't put much stock in abstract concepts such as **peace** or **justice**. As I said before, he is loyal to **people**, not principles. And he seems to expect the same kind of loyalty in return. He would go to any lengths to rescue me, for example, because he believes I would do the same for him."

Church looked down, trying to look like he was thinking when in reality he was just trying to hide the glistening of tears in his eyes. "Because, you see, it's only the belief that any of us would do the same that keeps him going." Setting his empty glass down Church stood up from the table, looking extremely uncomfortable. Leo began to get up as well, before with a dismissing wave Church motioned for him to stop.

"No, no, it's all right. I just think I've had enough for one night. After all, the other directors will be arriving tomorrow, and Ryan will be needing me at my best." Throwing a few bills onto the table, Church nodded to his companions and walked away, his steady footfalls immediately drowned out by the pounding music.

Ana watched the Wolf go before turning to her remaining companion. She looked on, lips curled up slightly in repulsion, as he leaned back in his seat, puffing on his cigarette in silence. "How can you stand doing that to your lungs?"

Taking another pull of his cigarette, Leo leaned his head back and breathed out, the grayish smoke slowly rising up towards the murky ceiling. "Well, _Ruca_, we all gonna die sometime, right? So, might as well make it as disgusting for the coroner as possible."

"That's…morbid."

He laughed and blew a cloud of smoke at her, making her cough and sneeze uncontrollably. "Hey, you asked why, didn't ya? Can't blame me if ya don' like the answer. Besides, life is morbid."

"Sure, whatever you say." Casting her gaze about, eyeing with sudden annoyance every drunken patron, every harassed waitress, every beaten up chair and worn down table, one overriding thought came to mind, forcing its way to the surface like an air bubble rising up through murky waters. "Why the hell did I sign up for this suicide job? I should be in Seattle, or maybe Las Vegas, setting up the security system of some overdone casino. Not traveling all across the world, getting shot at as often as most people go to McDonalds!"

The sound of a cigarette being ground out reached Ana's hears, making her turn back to an annoyed-looking Leo. "You know what Missy? It's Chavalas like you that make me hate doing this job. My old man was a cop in Ciudad Juarez, the most dangerous city in all of Mexico. There have been over 400 murders of women and young girls since 1993, nearly all of which go unsolved. Drug cartels wage war with each other for control, causing thousands of deaths every **year**. The biggest question people have on their minds every day is whether it will be the person in front of them or the person behind them who will start shooting first. But unlike literally **dozens** of other cops, my old man continued to go to work every single day; no breaks, no free weekends, no paid vacations. He never stopped fighting for his town, for his **family**! So don't you be going on about how damn tough your fucking life is!"

Ana looked in shock at Leo's quivering form, his honey-brown eyes filled with unconcealed loathing and disgust. Guilt bubbled up within her, as she quickly tried to apologize. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't…I didn't know."

Hearing this, Leo's loathing transformed into contempt, and he turned away from Ana. "No, of course you didn't. None of you people really understand what it's like, living in a world that at any moment could erupt into violence. Could come crashing down around you like a deck of cards. Compared to the everyday condition of most countries in the world, your 'crises' are jokes. You're a country of spoiled little brats. That's what my old man fought against, little girl, that's what we suffer and bleed and die to keep this country from going through; **anarchy**."

With an angry clank Leo slammed his long-empty glass down onto the wooden table and stood up, slightly swaying but kept upright by his anger. As he moved to leave Ana's voice reached out to him, soft and broken with emotion. "What…whatever happened to your father?"

Not even sparing her a glance Leo continued on his way, yelling out his answer over his shoulder. "One day he was found gutted, tied to a pole, and used as a urinal."

The pounding music drowned out her sobs.

* * *

"Mr. Vhite, I seek an audience."

White stopped mid-swing, his Katana an inch from separating his "sparring" opponent's head from his body. Stepping away he sheathed the blade with a sliding hiss and dismissed the terrified Organization soldier. With a grunt he turned to the view screen mounted on the sparring area wall, through which his eyes fell upon Amedeo's emaciated visage. "I will be there momentarily. Be sure you have a worthwhile reason for my presence by the time I arrive."

Not waiting for a response White deactivated the screen and turned, exiting the dull-grey room into the bright white halls of their headquarters. His long stride took him swiftly through the hall, all personnel hurrying to get out of the Cougar's way.

White paid these actions no mind however, his calculating mind focused on things that actually had worth. Specifically, the young Cat named Jason V. Black. What to do with him? Honestly White had no intention of putting such an easily-led fool like him in charge of the company once they had control. On the other hand though, upsetting Jason would also be a foolish mistake, as the Cat had already proven he could go toe to toe with him. If he ever chose to move against the young Black, he would make sure to have Deva or maybe Copperhead with him.

White discarded these thoughts from his mind as he reached his destination, Dr. Amedeo's laboratory. Entering the darkened lab, White grunted as the smell of blood and decay hit what remained of his nose. Blinking once before remembering he'd lost is tear ducts he moved deeper into the lab, drawn by the machine-gun sound of typing. Passing by what looked like a portable version of the machine that had brought him back to life; White gave a momentary glance before stepping into a separate part of the lab.

Before him sat Dr. Amedeo, back hunched over as he worked, skeletal hands typing furiously into a triple-screened computer. White positioned himself to the right of the ancient Cat, not bothering to look at what was being typed. He would know soon enough.

Amedeo's fingers stopped; the doctor turning in his seat to look at White. Something was in his eyes, something White wasn't sure if he liked. Not looking Amedeo moved a hand back to the keyboard and pressed enter; the screens went blank, and from a printer paper started coming out. White ignored this and glared into Amedeo's eyes

"Why have you called me here doctor? I must insure the repairs I recieved were performed accurately before the next stage of our operation unfolds."

Amedeo's eyes darted away. "I have…discovered something, in the young Jason. It…changes things."

"What?" White stalked forward, mechanical hand forming into a fist. "What is the problem?!" No, not now; they had all put so much work into Jason! Sacrificed hundreds of hours, dozens of soldiers to get him in exactly the right condition! What could be so unexpected that even Amedeo was hesitating!?

White's attention snapped back to Amedeo as he began shuffling the papers he had printed off. "Vell, I never said vhat has come up vas a problem."

"If it increases our chances of failure, it is a problem."

"I never said vhat has come up vill increase our chances of failure. It is merely a…unforeseen consequence of long-forgotten activities. Your activities, to be perfectly precise."

"What?" White's eyes narrowed, not understanding what was meant by that. "I am not quite sure what you are trying to get at doctor, but before the destruction of my original nuclear reactor, I had not even known of Jason's existence."

Instead of verbally replying, Amedeo hesitantly held out the papers; White took them, halfway reading as Amedeo seemed to struggle to explain. "You see, I vas examining a sample of Jason's blood, collected from your veapons after your latest encounter, to more closely examine how my genetic manipulator had bonded vith him over the years; vhile doing so however, I noticed a genetic similarity between-" White's upheld hand silenced Amedeo.

White finished reading the printout, and then read it again, and then a third time. Slowly he lowered the papers, hand going limp and letting them fall softly to the floor. White took a step, stumbled, and collapses down into a chair. His flesh hand found his forehead, as the shaken Cougar stared into the distance, losing himself from the surroundings.

"Jason Black…Jason Black is more than just Fisk Black's cousin."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
A/N: Well…this chapter was interesting. A bit shorter than usual, but it just felt right to me to stop where I did.


	18. It's a Trap!

A/N: I don't own Better Days or any of its characters. I am not Jay Naylor. I make no money from writing this.

Original Days 2

Chapter 17: It's a Trap!!!

* * *

The day of the other directors' arrivals dawned dim, and overcast. A surprise northeaster had blown in, bringing with it thick, dark clouds that blotted out the sun and a fierce, cold wind that ripped and clawed at all outcroppings, both natural and engineered, as it shrieked by; in some cases taking the outcropping with it. The threat of rain hung in the air; rain that would send those caught in it scurrying for safety. Ryan looked out at this storm from behind the fortified glass of ShiroTech headquarters and sighed.

"This is going to complicate things."

Behind him, Akira stood up from where he was playing chess with Fisk and joined Ryan at the window. "I don't suppose it would be possible to reschedule?" Ryan thought over this, and turned to look over the people assembled in Akira's private office. Fisk sat at the desk, putting up the chess set with a thoughtful expression on his face. Further past him, Leo and Church sat on a comfy-looking couch and watched the news. Ana sat in a chair to their left, typing furiously into her laptop.

Ryan frowned. Ana had been oddly quiet for the last two days, but at the same time had not shied away from any of the others. Well, she seemed to be uncomfortable whenever Leo was around, but Ryan just couldn't figure out why. Speaking of things he couldn't figure out…

"Fisk" Ryan spoke, gaining the Cat's attention. "Go find Angela. Tell her we will be leaving for the meeting point in 15 minutes." Fisk nodded and began making his way to the door; pausing just in front of it though he frowned and turned back to Ryan. "What about Jason?" All present turned to Ryan, as he thought carefully on how to answer.

"If you see him…tell him to stay and guard Asura." Not waiting to see what Fisk did Ryan turned his gaze back to the coming storm. _"Now then, let us see if all the pieces fall into place."_

* * *

_"Why, goddamn it? Why did they have to ruin everything by falling in love?" _Fisk stood before Angela's door, fists clenched in frustration. His mind flashed to all the experiences that he, Angela, and Jason had gone through together as **friends**.

Vacations; Fisk still couldn't believe Jason had hydrophobia.

Holidays; Fisk wished he could understand why Angela believed as she did with Christmas.

Night outs; Jason still wouldn't let him live down his complete inability to carry a tune.

Birthdays; at this Fisk stopped, unwilling to proceed any further on the subject. In the back of his mind he idly wondered if Jason had ever opened his last birthday present from him. Probably not, they had all left so quickly after receiving their latest mission.

Fisk's hand reached up slowly to knock, but hesitated before doing so. He had some horrible feeling, deep down that if he knocked on the door everything would change, forever.

He sighed heavily and knocked. "Angela, it's me, Fisk." Seconds ticked by, before the door clicked and opened, revealing Angela. In the room behind her stood Jason, his dark form silhouetted by the bluish-grey light seeping in through the window he stood looking out of.

Angela grabbed her pistol from the table and strapped it to her belt. "Come on Jason, let's g-"

"Hang on a second" Fisk said as he held a palm out, blocking Angela as she tried to leave. She and Jason looked at Fisk curiously, making him feel surprisingly self-conscious. That wouldn't stop him from saying what needed to be said. "Listen, I…Jason told me. About the two of you, and your relationship."

He did?" Angela looked at Jason, who had moved to beside her as Fisk spoke. She looked almost hurt that Jason had told. Jason just looked annoyed that Fisk was doing this.

Fisk nodded and continued. "I know the three of us have…well, been through a lot. More than most people do in a lifetime. We have been to the four corners of the world together. We have swum in every ocean, trekked on every continent, visited cities the world over. The three of us have seen the world at its worst, and at its best; together. I just want you two to know that no matter what happens, I'll always count you as among my most precious people."

"Oh…Fisk…" Angela wrapped her arms around Fisk in a hug, one Fisk gladly returned. Jason just stood a bit apart, head hung to hide the tears that watered his eyes. "Oh Fisk" Angela said again, making him look down to face her nearly foot-shorter frame. "Working with the two of you has been the best four years of my life. Heh, and to think, we're still dealing with the same power-hungry Cougar."

Fisk grinned at this and stepped from Angela, releasing the hug. "Jason, Angela." The two looked at him. "Let's do what we always do. Stop the bad guys."

Angela stepped from the doorway and took her spot to Fisk's right. "Save the world."

Jason smirked and took the spot to Fisk's left. "And make it look easy." The three friends laughed and went on to do their duty, hearts brimming with confidence that they would continue being a team, and that the threat of White would be soon dealt with.

That is, two of them felt this way. As the vehicles of the agents drove away into the coming storm, Jason stood, alone, watching them through darkened glass. Fear and despair filled him; dread seized his heart like a fist and squeezed, making a bolt of phantom pain tear its way through his body. With a strangled gasp Jason fell to his knees, mechanical hand grasping at his chest, his flesh hand feebly pressing against the burning cold glass to support himself.

"Oh God…what have I done…"

Jason slowly struggled to his feet and turned, staggering to the exit. Hot tears blurred his vision, making him stagger through the empty hallways of ShiroTech until with a cry of shock he stumbled and fell down a flight of stairs, landing with a crash and a pained cry on a landing. Landing on his back Jason groaned, before painfully climbing once more to his feet. _"That…hurt."_ The pain cleared his mind however, making him focus on something other than his betrayal. He looked around for a moment, before focusing on his own body to make sure nothing was broken.

_"Guess I shouldn't have gone the last two nights without sleeping…but I couldn't face those dreams..."_Not finding any problems, Jason sighed. No more tears would come; could come. He couldn't back out know, he thought to himself as he marched down the stairs. He had already sacrificed so much for this! His faith in society, his faith in people, his own arm. He couldn't let those losses be in vain. Several minutes later Jason strode down a dimly-lit hallway towards a guarded door. The two soldiers, Organization soldiers, nodded and let him pass. He opened it to find Asura strapping on her custom armor, discretely repaired after the damage inflicted to it during their first encounter. Asura looked up from securing her scale-armor skirt and gave Jason an excited smile.

"Today, Jason. Today, we destroy the leadership of the company! Today we will take control, through you, one of the more potent threats to our goals! Aren't you excited?"

Jason let a smile of his own pass over his lips, before taking notice of a large metallic case sitting by Asura's cot. "What's that?"

Asura snapped a greave on before following his gaze. "Oh, that!" She giggled madly and skipped over to it, lifting it up with a strained grunt and putting it on the cot. After that she turned and motioned Jason over. "Consider this a sign of your allegiance to us, a sign that you are one of us. I prefer calling it a late birthday present!"

Jason clicked the lock off and hesitantly opened the case, curious but at the same time almost afraid to see what it was. He looked and gasped, his eyes landing on a heavy white coat, much like the duster he wore right then. Sitting on this coat was a plain ceramic mask, snow-white except for a long jagged line of red passing over each eyehole. Jason lifted the mask up, carefully examining every line and groove, before turning to Asura. "This is almost just like the one your father wore."

"Yes. Only the most important members of the Organization possess them; me, my father, my brother…and know you." She lifted a near-identical one from the cot and showed it to Jason, the only difference from Jason's being a wickedly jagged black line in the resemblance of a smile instead of the lines through the eyes. With a smirk she slipped her mask on, securing it snuggly.

Jason merely continued to stand there, the mask gripped loosely in his hands. Asura saw this and cocked her head curiously. "Put the mask on Jason." The words seemed to echo around him, within him. She began to circle him, continuing on. "Put the mask on, and become a new person. Let go of your fear; let go of your hesitation; let it all slip away as you step into your new role, your new life. Become your true self."

The shell that had once been Jason Black lifted the blank mask to his face, slowly fitting it on and securing its clasps. He turned to the waiting, expectant woman beside him. "You are Asura, demon." She nodded.

"Your brother is Deva, god." Once more she nodded.

A moment of silence; of decision befell the room. Finally, the dark Cat spoke. "Sakra; for now on you will call me Sakra."

Asura smiled then, giggling softly as she walked over and trailed her fingers across Sakra's chest. "Well than Sakra, let's go to work. Let's go have some fun!"

* * *

Angela stopped checking her pistol's magazine, her eyes seeming to be focused somewhere else. The clip of ammo fell from her limp hands onto the car's floor, getting the attention of the person sitting beside her, Ana. "Angela? Is something wrong?"

Angela barely heard Ana's concerned voice. Her head hit the cold glass of the passenger side window with a thud, her hand clenched to her chest. A great weight seemed to have settled on her heart, as if someone had taken it in hand and squeezed. "Oh God…I think I'm going to be sick…"

"Angela, what's wrong!?" Ana reached out, taking Angela's quivering shoulder in a firm grip. Church, the one driving the vehicle, partly turned his attention from the wind-torn streets to look back at the two in concern.

Angela slowly lifted her head from the glass, wiping away tears that she hadn't even realized she'd been shedding. "I…don't know. I…I guess it's just nerves getting to me. Haven't been on a job that took this long in forever. Hehe…" She put on a weak smile to assuage Ana's and Church's worry, before turning to look out the window.

The two Canines shared a look, neither convinced by the albino's given reason. Just as Ana turned to question Angela again all their communicators hissed on. Ryan's voice came through clear and sharp despite the heavy wind, gaining the attention of the car's occupants in a moment.

"Agents, Mr. Shiro, and assorted personnel; in a few moments we shall be arriving at the rendezvous point. Keep **all **of your senses on high alert. We can't afford any screw-ups, not now."

Ryan ceased speaking. Angela quickly began reloading her guns, making sure every piece of equipment she had was in proper order. With a final snap she finished with her specially-molded vambraces and slipped her hold-out pistol into her leather jacket just as Church pulled to a stop. He unbuckled and turned in his seat to look at his two passengers.

Okay girls, here we are. Be careful out there, okay?"

Both women nodded, before stepping out into the dark industrial park. Rain began to fall from the black sky, casting their five vehicles in drenched shadow. Angela held her handgun ready at her side, her eyes scanning the area. Movement to her right made her turn to see Fisk sliding up beside her. Their eyes locked. No words were exchanged; both knew instinctively that the other had felt it.

Ryan stepped away from the group, turning his head left and right into the darkness of the square. No sound could be heard other than thunder and the pounding of the heavy rain on the metal and concrete structures around them. The structures rose up like the decaying skeletons of great behemoths, interconnecting around the rain-soaked party like a great cage.

Akira shivered slightly in the cold air; Leo shrugged of his jacket and gave it to the young Cat before turning to Ryan, still turning in spot and peering worriedly into the darkness. "Hey! How much longer until they get here!?"

Several murmurs of agreement rose from the crowd, as Ryan turned to them all with worried eyes. His mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened again, each time looking as if he wanted to speak yet couldn't. A bolt of lightning tore through the distant sky, and finally he got his words out. "Ch-Church, turn on the high beams."

Half standing out of the black Chevrolet Orlando, Church switched his gaze from the surrounding area to Ryan at the Cat's sudden order. Sitting back down he flipped a retrofitted switch on the dashboard; atop the vehicle three mounted search lights switched on, casting all those standing before the vehicle in sharp relief.

It also illuminated the charred remains of the Directors and their security details, slumped in and around the blackened husks of what used to be vehicles.

"Everyone, move!" At Fisk's command the agents sprang into action, quickly jumping back into the vehicles as a hail of gunfire rained down on them from the surrounding buildings. Ana got caught in the shoulder as she was getting in, nearly falling to the ground before Angela grabbed her by the arm and pulled her in. "Come on Ana, this is no time to be laying around!"

The Dog began to retort when a flash like lightning turned the area into day, and the car to their immediate right disappeared in a ball of fire.

"Hell! Church, get us out of here!"

Church slammed on the gas, sending the vehicle screeching out behind the cars their friends were in. Angela leaned down, quickly ripping the sleeve off Ana's shirt to get at the wound. The Dog flinched, prompting Angela to give as reassuring a smile as she could muster. "Don't worry; we're going to be alright."

Lightning crackled again, and the asphalt to their right exploded, raining down shrapnel on their vehicle. _"At least, I hope we'll be alright…"_

* * *

A/N: Hey everybody! Check it out, another chapter! Well anyway, things are beginning to fall apart for our heroes; do they have what it takes to persevere? Find out...not next time! Bye!


	19. Reign of Fire

A/N: I make no money from this. I do not own the characters created by Jay Naylor.

Original Days 2

Chapter 18: Reign of Fire.

* * *

The streets of New York City had become a warzone. Gunfire flashed between vehicles as they sped through the rain-soaked streets, lighting them up as the lightning lit up the skies. Explosions ripped through the streets and buildings, sending chunks of asphalt, metal, and glass flying though the air. The three company vehicles swerved and dodged through the little traffic there was, desperately trying to put distance between them and their attackers, who seemed to have no problem with merely blasting their way through the unlucky bystanders.

With a grunt Fisk pulled hard on the wheel, sending his black GT-H mustang swerving off the main road onto the sidewalk. Just in time, as a second later the spot he'd previously occupied became a smoking crater courtesy of the same kind of gun used when Asura recovered White's body. He twisted the car back onto the street, quickly looking back to count the attackers.

It didn't look good. Three VBL all-terrain vehicles hammered at the four fleeing vehicles with RPGs and heavy machine guns; zooming around these vehicles were about twelve motorcycle riders, peppering them with gunfire from their MAC-11s. And then there was that BTR-90 armored transporter Fisk could barely make out near the back of the group, which seemed to be the source of those blasts. How in the world did White manage to get one of those?!

A cycle pulled to level with Fisk's car and fired, riddling Fisk's car door with bullets. Cursing, Fisk pulled sharply to the left, smashing the overeager enemy between vehicle and building. "Damn it, why the hell is it always my side that's defending in car chases…Leo, take the wheel."

The Dog stopped shooting from his window and looked at Fisk uncomprehendingly. "What? What the hell are you going to do?!"

"Even things up." Unbuckling Fisk leaned his seat back and rolled, depositing himself in the back seat. Ignoring Leo's panicked lunge to take the suddenly-driverless wheel, he ducked down to avoid gunfire and clicked a hidden button along the side of the back seat; a hidden compartment opened. "I am damn tired of always being on the defensive in these things."

From the revealed compartment Fisk lifted an RPG-29. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Leo's eyes widened as Fisk took aim at the enemy vehicles **through** the glass. "Why the hell do you have a rocket launcher in your back seat?!"

"It wouldn't fit in the glove compartment." Fisk pulled the trigger; the rear window exploded in a shower of glass as the grenade blew through it. Church's car swerved out of the way of the projectile, along with several cycles. A VBL wasn't so fortunate, the missile hitting straight in the grill. It flipped into the air once before crashing back down as a flaming wreck, smashing into one of the motorcyclists; the rest of the VBL's swerved around the wreck, while the armored carrier simply smashed through it.

* * *

Ana paused in her firing to slam a fresh clip into her handgun, taking this moment to gape at the slowly disappearing destroyed vehicle. "Damn, Fisk's pissed!" From the front seat Church tried smashing a cyclist against a building like Fisk did, before nodding.

"Yeah, too bad he only has room for one round." Dodging an explosion he looked in the rearview mirror. "Angela, any luck getting Jason?"

"Damn it, no. The call is getting through; he's just not answering for some reason." Angela threw the phone down and grabbed from the weapons cache her Daewoo K7 SMG. Growling she threw open her car door and opened fire, catching one unlucky motorcyclist in the head. "Come on you bastards! You wanted a damn fight!"

Church swerved suddenly to avoid another blast, and with a yelp Angela flew from the car, crashing with a painful-sounding crack onto the concrete road. Ana shrieked in horror. "Church, go back!"

"I can't, we'll be too easy a target!" Before Ana could object he continued. Listen, our top priority is to protect Akira and Ryan, and if Angela was here you know she'd agree." Looking back he smiled as comfortingly as he could, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Don't worry; she can take care of herself."

* * *

_"What…happened?"_ Angela struggled to form thoughts as she lay sprawled on the ground. To her mind floated vague thoughts of incoming gunfire, of her firing back, of Church swerving. The rain pounded against her body, and as the sound of speedily approaching motorcycles thundered in her ears she suddenly remembered everything. With a cry she pushed off to the side, narrowly avoiding the cycle that'd been seconds away from caving her body in like a watermelon. It circled back around, as three more cycles sped at her from the original direction. One thought crossed her mind: _"Shit."_

She leaped up over the first to reach her and grabbed hold of the rider's helmet; with barely a scream he was yanked from the bike, neck snapping from the sudden jerk. She landed back on the ground and, with her forward momentum, threw the dead body into the path of the next cycle. Unable to swerve out of the way in time he screamed as the impact flipped him and his bike into the air, landing several yards away with a mortal-sounding crack of the head.

_"Two down"_ Angela thought to herself as she ducked behind a fallen bike for cover, evading gunfire from the other two bikers. _"Two more to go."_

* * *

Back with Fisk, he'd discarded the used RPG and grabbed an M-32 grenade launcher, blowing up bikers left and right. A sudden crackling on the radio caught his attention, and with one final shot at the VBLs he ducked down to listen. His eyes widened as he listened to Ana yell at Church for leaving Angela behind. "Shit."

Reloading his weapon he turned to the front and grabbed Leo's shoulder with one hand, with the other pointing at Ryan and Akira's car in the front. "Leo, keep Ryan's car in sight, and make sure nothing happens to him. He's our only director left."

It took the Dog a moment to register what Fisk had said, and by the time he looked back Fisk had already kicked the car door open, coincidently smashing a biker away. "Wait, what do you mean, where are you going?!"

"I'm going" Fisk replied back as he jumped from the car, "to save a friend." Leo watched the Cat roll into a crouching position, before yelling out, though he doubted Fisk could hear, "you crazy Cracker!"

* * *

Fisk rolled through the impact with the ground, rolling back to his feet and coming nearly face-to-face with the biker he'd smacked with the car door earlier. Five seconds from impact he flicked his wrist, a slim cylindrical handle falling into his hand. Three seconds from impact he pressed a smooth button on the cylinder and a two-foot blade of hardened ceramic extended into place. One second from impact he twisted around and threw the sword straight into the biker's chest; with a grunt of sudden pain the biker flew from his seat from the force, the bike skidding out of control to Fisk's right.

Fisk ran over to the still body and retrieved his weapon, along with the biker's Kel-tec PLR-16, before striding over to the fallen bike. Standing it back up and climbing on, he gave a short wave to Church's passing car before speeding off, straight at the VBL's.

Fisk swerved left and right, taking potshots at the vehicles as he sped to Angela's aid. Suddenly a thick spray of bullets peppered the street around him, and he turned to see that one of the all-terrain vehicles had turned around and was now chasing after him.

_"Fine than, you want to fight?"_ Fisk braked and turned, tires screeching as he reversed his direction nearly on the spot. The occupants of the VBL blinked as suddenly their opponent was speeding straight **at **them. And then they all opened fire on him.

Fisk ducked low, avoiding the gunfire as well as he could, not even flinching when a bullet tore through his shoulder, or when another blew the tip off his ear. Carefully he lifted a foot from a pedal, placing it on the seat beneath him as he got into a pouncing position. The vehicles drew closer and closer, the Organization soldiers grinning as it looked more and more likely that they were going to smash the Black agent against their front like a bug. Just as it looked like He was about to smash into the vehicle he growled and launched himself into the air off of the motorcycle's seat just before it was crushed under the VBL's heavy tires.

The soldiers watched, stunned beyond action, as the growling Cat flew at them over the vehicle and into their gunner position. Fisk swiped his blade forward, decapitating the first soldier; next he jammed the barrel of his gun into their mouth and pulled the trigger, blowing out the back of their head with a burst of lead. As the two bodies fell Fisk pulled a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and dropped it onto the deck. He leaped off and landed into a roll as the vehicle blew apart, razor-sharp hunks of metal and glass spraying the area.

"Damn…that was some grenade." Fisk climbed back to his feet, looking for a moment at the burning wreck that was all that remained of the enemy vehicle. The sudden sound of an approaching motorcycle made him spin, gun raised to fire. A moment later he blinked, lowering the gun as a smirk grew on his face. "So, have fun?"

Angela pulled up beside him on a taken cycle, out of breath but fairly unharmed. "Well, they were only on motorcycles. Not like I had to take on an armored vehicle; you're unreal, man. By the way, where'd you get the sword-thingy?"

Fisk began to respond, before a crackling sound made him grab Angela and lunge to the side. A moment later the area they'd been in became molten slag, a result of the Organization's mysterious weapon. Fisk and Angela looked up to see the BTR-90 bearing down on them at top speed; thankfully, the top speed of any kind of carrier isn't much to get worked up over.

"I don't have anything to take care of that, do you?"

Angela shook her head and jumped back on the motorcycle. Not seeing any other's around Fisk ran over and hopped on the back of her cycle, and together they sped off to catch up to their comrades.

* * *

White watched the two agents speed off, before turning to the gunner in charge of the M.D.G. "You missed."

The gunner half-turned in his seat, terrified to meet his commander's eyes. "S-sir, I'm sorry, the static charge building up in the storm is disrupting our targeting matrix."

"…I see; very well then." White turned from the nearly shaking gunner to the equally nervous driver, a cold calm covering his inner anger. "Driver, get us closer, now. And contact Black, he's taking too long."

For several seconds the driver tapped into a keyboard and listened to a headset, before turning away from it to the towering Cougar. "Sir, Black says he's already here."

* * *

Ryan grunted and fell back into his seat, clutching at the long gash along the right side of his head where a stray bullet had torn through. Akira looked over from behind the wheel and blanched at all the blood. "Ryan sir, are you okay?"

Ryan blinked and wiped away at the blood pouring down his face, free hand groping blindly through the glove compartment. "Yeah…just gotta find…the medical kit…"

Any response Akira might have had to that was drowned out as a deafening thumping sound filled the air. Panicking Akira looked around, while Ryan froze in his search. Suddenly a large and thickly-built helicopter flew by overhead, turning around on its axis to face them several dozen yards ahead.

As it turned Akira caught sight of a marking on its side, and a hopeful smile broke out on his face. "Wait a minute, that's a ShiroTech chopper!"

"What?!" Ryan stopped wrapping bandages around the right side of his head momentarily and squinted at the black helicopter seemingly content to just stay ahead of them. "That must mean Jason got our message. He's sent help, probably come himself!"

At that moment the helicopter twisted around, its right-side hatch opening up and a mounted minigun pointing out at them. Akira and Ryan gasped in shock, horror etched into their faces as Asura leered at them from behind the large gun. Ryan lunged forward, grabbing the wheel and pulling as Asura opened fire, shredding the rear of the car as they swerved to the side.

"Damn it! How the hell did she get loose?" Ryan grabbed his radio, fumbling for a moment with his blood-soaked hands as Akira continued to dodge the helicopter's gunfire. Finally he managed to press on, contacting all the radios and walkie-talkies synched with it. "Attention agents! The Organization terrorist known as Asura has broken loose! She and another terrorist are piloting the helicopter!"

A spray of bullets took Ryan's door off, making him curse and look at Akira. "Is there anywhere nearby we can take shelter in? This chopper is going to tear us apart!"

Akira thought for a moment, before pulling hard on the wheel, sending them careening down another street. Just as he did so the helicopter fired again, shredding into one of the company vehicles. Now all that were left were the cars with Akira and Ryan, Church and Ana, and Leo.

Akira began navigating his way through the streets, a strange calm settling over his features. "I know exactly where we can go to get away from the chopper."

* * *

With a grunt Fisk swung his blade in an arc, decapitating the last of the bikers. He looked around, to see Angela leap from the back of the final VBL. A moment later the vehicle exploded, tires and hunks of metal shooting into the air or skidding along the ground.

Angela fell into a role from her jump, coming to a stop and to her feet just in time to swing onto Fisk's cycle. "Hey, did you miss me?"

Fisk looked ahead, scowling at the sight of the chopper. "Maybe, but we can talk about that later. Right now it looks like we have a flight to catch."

Revving the engine he tore down the streets, zooming past wrecked cars and smoking craters, edging his way closer to his friends' cars. Angela held on fiercely, arms wrapped tight around Fisk's torso. Years later she would tell others of how Fisk seemed on that day. Of the strange intensity that overtook him; of the near-desperation he exuded in his pursuit of the others.

A red glow in the distance caught both their attentions. Ahead and nearing was a massive steel mill, the angry red glow of its furnaces lighting up the dark world around it like a shining beacon. Fisk suddenly looked a bit to the mill's left, nodding to himself. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and flipped it open, ignoring Angela's questioning look. The phone rang for a second, before the person on the other end answered. Fisk immediately began speaking.

"Akira, I have a plan to get rid of the chopper. Listen very carefully; do whatever it takes to keep the chopper in one spot, do you hear me? Whatever it takes!" Not waiting for a response Fisk hung up, tossing the phone away. He wouldn't need it, if the plan worked. "Angela, get ready."

Angela looked away from the nearing mill and at Fisk. "For what?"

"For some turbulence." Fisk turned off the road onto a side street, braking and swerving onto the entrance ramp for the mill's car park. He drove up level after level, always keeping his eyes on the chopper. It wasn't until they were on the level directly above the aircraft that it dawned on Angela what was about to happen. Her grip on Fisk's jacket tightened. "You're insane, you know that right?"

"I know. Just get ready to catch us." The tires screeched as Fisk barreled toward the ledge of the lot. The area around them became a blur to Angela, as with a deafening crunch the cycle crashed through over the edge. Angela and Fisk jumped free of the ballistic vehicle, Fisk taking hold of the Bat as she glided over the helicopter, the pair landing hard on the nearby roof of the mill.

The motorcycle plummeted down into the blades of the helicopter. With a screeching shriek of metal against metal the blades shattered even as the cycle exploded into pieces. Instantly the chopper began spinning out of control, Asura stumbling away from the mounted minigun as the floor veered beneath her feet. "Sakra, what happened?!"

Jason frantically worked the control panel, ignoring the white-hot sparks shooting from it at him. "We've lost the blades! We're gon-LOOK OUT!!!" Faster than Asura could register the taller Cat had leaped from his seat, shoving her roughly out the wide-open bay door. She fell three yards to the roof of the steel mill, grunting as gravel dug into her skin, leaving tiny tears across her body.

None of this mattered to Asura though. Frantically she climbed back to her feet and looked up at the wildly careening chopper. "SAKRA!" She watched in horror as the chopper plummeted down onto the roof, crashing straight through and into the factory itself. The crash thundered throughout the storm like one more bolt of lightning. The roof around the hole crumbled and shook as the cold rain pounded against it.

Asura ignored the rain pounding against her own body, clanking against her armor as she ran to the widening hole. She no longer thought about her father's plan, of the two agents also making their way to the crashed helicopter, of the company director who by now must have taken refuge within the walls of the steel mill; all that was within her clouded, jumbled mind was the thought that Jason had protected her life at the possible expense of his own.

The rain fell, people continued to die, and for the first time Asura felt doubt.

* * *

A/N: And here we go people, the final confrontation. Good will fight evil, heroes will clash, lives will be shaken, and a horrifying truth will be unleashed!


	20. Battle of the Heroes

A/N: I don't own Better Days. I don't own Original Life. I am not Jay Naylor. I make no money from this writing.

Original Days 2

Chapter 19: Battle of the Heroes

* * *

"EVERYONE GO, NOW! MOVE!"

At Church's bellowed command the surviving company agents and Akira broke from the cover of their vehicles in a mad dash. Their destination: the steel mill. Church ran in by the large loading dock bay doors, the sound of heavy machinery, hissing steam, and roaring fires filled wall of sound.

Confused workers and technicians ran around, some running to where the helicopter had crashed down, others to confront the agents running in through the entrance, and the rest struggling to keep the machinery within safe parameters.

Church waved his gun at the nearing workers, scaring them away. The last thing they needed, he thought, was to get caught up in all this. Turning back around he ran over to where Akira was struggling to help a half-unconscious Ryan walk, one arm slung over his shoulder. Church bent down and took the other arm, quickly moving them along deeper into the building.

"Akira, what happened to Ryan?"

The lithe Cat looked up, panting softly as with his spare hand he lifted Ryan's head up, to show one eye wrapped in bandages. "On the way here, a bullet caught the side of his head. I, I don't know, but I think something's in his eye."

Suddenly a blinding flash lit up the area behind them, and the group was knocked to the ground as their bullet-ridden vehicles exploded. Church was the first to get back to his feet. Looking back he groaned as the final enemy vehicle, White's armored transporter, swiveled its cannon into a holding position as it slowly came to a stop beside the smoking wrecks.

Ana staggered over to Church, one hand clamped over the gunshot wound she had received at the beginning of the battle, the other tightly holding onto her pistol as if it was the last gun in the world. "Sir…what are we going to do?"

Slowly, painfully, Church turned from the enemy and looked over the others. Tired, bloody, and bruised; exhausted, swaying on their feet as they did their best to patch up the numerous cuts, bruises, and holes over their bodies. Sighing Church looked down, shaking his head as one inevitable outcome presented itself in his mind. They were all going to die.

* * *

The massive armored transporter grinded to a halt outside the entrance to the steel mill, the rain harmlessly pounding against its triple-armored hull like so many bullets. The rear hatch dropped open, and with all the speed of the professionally-trained soldiers they were nine Organization soldiers stormed out, circling around the parked transporter and taking up firing positions at its front.

Seconds later White strode to a stop behind them, glaring almost hatefully at the mill. He'd lost a great many subordinates today, and he planned on making the few agents left know how much that…displeased him. His plain white mask reflected the burning red coming from the mill, mirroring the burning fury within what passed for his heart.

"I want them dead. I want all of them dead. Tobs, Rodriguez, Church, Daverra, Shiro; before this day ends, I want to have uncontested control of the company. And I will **have** uncontested control! Now, SOLDIERS, BEGIN THE ASSAULT!"

Guns primed, loaded, and charging, the Organization soldiers stormed the steel mill. White turned away from the mill, looking instead to the dark shadow of a Bat to his right. "Lead the men. Make sure that what is done is what I have commanded."

Copperhead saluted and dashed off after the soldiers, leaving White behind with the vehicle's operators. Suddenly his attention was caught by the sound of approaching sirens, and with a dark chuckle White turned to look at the vehicle's technician.

"Bring me the M.D.G.," White said as he held his left arm out. Several whirrs and hisses came from it as parts began to shift. "A shooting gallery is coming."

* * *

Asura ran as fast as her legs could carry her to the crumbling hole, the rain-soaked rooftop almost making her fall down into it as she came to a sliding stop at its edge. Half a dozen yards below her, forward half hanging precariously over a vat of molten metal, was the battered remnants of the helicopter. The rest of the chopper lay atop a raised platform, half of which was situated above the molten metal. As she looked down and watched, Jason slowly and painfully crawled from the wreckage.

"Sakra!"

Asura jumped down, landing into a roll to soften her fall. Getting back up she rushed over to her friend, cringing as the red light revealed his form to be caked in blood. His white duster was burnt and tattered, beyond any hope of repair. Beneath that his black clothing was darkened further by several burns, and as Jason struggled to his feet and turned to her, Asura gasped at the sight of a jagged piece of metal jutting from his armor's chest piece.

"Asura…a-are you okay?"

Asura's attention snapped from the chest piece to Jason's face, cringing again at the sight of a large crack running straight through it. She ran over to him, taking hold of his shoulder as he seemed to stagger a bit. "Am I okay? What the hell are you asking that for you idiot?! You're the one who stayed in the crashing chopper!"

Jason shrugged and reached up, grasping and with a grunt pulling the shard of metal from his armor. The tip was red, and with a disgusted snort Jason tossed it away. The sound of crumbling concrete caught his attention, and he discretely turned his head to Asura. "Go, now. The ones that brought us down will be here soon."

* * *

Fisk watched as Asura ran over to the hole warily, but also confused. So far Asura had never shown any discernable concern for the welfare of others, so who was this Sakra person to get her to care so much?

As soon as Asura had jumped down into the factory, Angela grabbed hold of Fisk's arm and pulled, heading for the hole herself. "Come on, we need to stop her and rejoin the others. They'll be needing as much help as possible I'll bet."

Fisk nodded, and together they sprinted over to the makeshift entrance. As they neared voices reached their ears. Fisk motioned for Angela to slow down, before taking a step closer to the edge. A bit of rubble came loose, striking the floor below. Angela looked down into the steel mill, frowning as she saw a strangely-familiar black-clothed figure. "Who is that? Where'd Asura go?"

Grabbing hold of the edge she swung over and began to make her slow descent into the mill. Fisk began to follow, but after a moment stopped. Something was yelling at him,** screaming** at him, to not go any further. And so he hung back and watched as Angela dropped the final couple of feet to the ground.

* * *

Angela dropped down to the floor, handgun held tightly in her fist. The figure before her seemed not to notice anything, and so she carefully made her way toward him from behind. She froze when he reached up, before breathing a sigh of relief as he just began to take his cracked mask off.

Suddenly he turned around, fixing Angela in place with his gaze as his lips formed into a smile. "Angel…"

Angela's breath caught in her throat, and before she realized it she had run over and enveloped her love in a desperate embrace. No thoughts of what he was doing there crossed her mind, only that he was.

"Jason, thank God that you're here! The meeting, it was a trap! And the other directors are dead, and White's been chasing us through the city! We nearly died so many times…and-"

"Shh, shh, it's all right now; everything's going to be all right." He ran his hand softly through her hair, before cupping her chin and gently raising her face so that she was looking into his loving eyes. "Everything will be all right. I've made sure of that."

"But Jason, Asura escaped! White's attacking our friends as we speak! So many people have died!" Angela's gaze dropped, her eyes brimming with tears unshed. She felt Jason's grip on her change, become tighter, but she paid it no mind. "I just, I don't understand how you can be so sure!" Angela looked back up pleadingly, but this time she saw no love in his eyes. This time she saw only reflections of the fire around them.

He did not say _"Because I've brought Company reinforcements."_

He did not say _"Because I'm always sure, didn't you know that?"_

He said, "I've made…arrangements." His voice had dropped an octave, and had gone colder than the chill that crept up Angela's spine.

"What…what do you mean? What arrangements?" Jason let go of her and stepped back, boots clanking on the metal grating. At his silence she asked again, "Jason, what arrangements?!"

Jason glowered, hands resting on her shoulders as he stared into her eyes. "I've done what needed to be done, my love. That's what I've always done."

Angela looked at the hands on her shoulders, her voice quivering as she slowly stepped back from the man before her. "Jason…what have you done? It's like, it's like I don't even know you anymore!"

Jason's eyes roared with fire, and he took a step to match each of hers. "I'm the man who loves you. I'm the man who would do anything to protect you. Has done everything to protect you! Everything I've done has been for you, and Constantine!"

"Jason…" Horror squeezed at Angela's heart like a vice, tears once more shining in her eyes. "Jason, for the love of God, what have you done?!" She prayed that he wouldn't actually answer.

"I've ensured Constantine will continue to live. I've ensured that after tonight, White will never be a problem for the company again."

"The company is dead. You killed it, you and White."

"It needed to die."

Tears continued to pour down Angela's face, but it didn't matter; there would never be enough tears for this. A sound behind her, near the mill's control room, caught their attention, and both turned to see Fisk cautiously approaching.

Jason quickly pushed Angela out from between them, so that nothing stood in the three yards between the cousins. "Well, I was wondering when you would come down here **Fish**. You certainly took your time."

Fisk stopped walking, looking back at Jason with sad, disappointed eyes as he spoke in his calm, composed fashion. "What are you doing Jason? How could you ever ally yourself with a monster like White? You should **know** he'll only betray you!"

"Don't lecture me Fisk! You think I don't understand the risks? I do, but I also see the possibility!"

Jason turned away from the two, striding over to the vat of molten metal, the superheated air rising up from it making the tattered remnants of his coat move softly. "I see through all the company's lies. White understands, Fisk! He understands what it will take to end this mindless chaos! This mind-numbing suffering! Isn't that what we have sworn ourselves to? Why protect our loved ones against the chaos when we can end the chaos!"

Angela started to step forward, before a warning sign from Fisk made her stop. Fisk turned and looked at Jason. "This isn't the way Jason. There's still time; time to stop, time to recant your stance. Don't become a traitor like White!"

Jason stood in silence, before turning around and regarding the two before him. "Leave, Fisk, Angela. Leave and go somewhere and live in peace. Leave all of this to me. Please…"

"You know I can't do that," Fisk said regretfully, raising up into a guard position his extending blade. As he faced Jason he spoke to Angela. "Go, go help the others. I'll…handle this."

"No, please, let me hel-"

"GO!"

Angela flinched at Fisk's fierce yell, turning once to look at Jason's silent form, before tearing herself away from the scene, nearly tripping down the stairwell as she ran to help Church and the others. Asura watched the Bat run by her hiding spot within the shadows, quickly slipping from them and following her.

And so, Fisk stood alone, warily watching the still form of Jason.

"You have no idea…how long this has been waiting in my mind. To find out which of us is the better fighter."

Jason began circling to the right, gleaming red eyes locked on Fisk with a feral excitement. Fisk mirrored him, moving to the left as the pair began to form a circle. "If only we weren't in opposition, I'd be able to enjoy this."

Jason flicked his wrists, and two-foot blades sprang from his vambraces. "Don't make me kill you Fisk, please. Don't make me make that choice."

"I could never make you do anything, my cousin." Fisk activated his weapon, and a two-foot blade of hardened ceramic sprouted into place. The two leapt; blades crossed, and the battle was on.

* * *

Church dived to the side, narrowly avoiding the burst of gunfire from the soldier. Continuing into a roll he took cover behind a large stack of metal sheeting. A second later Ana joined him, panting hard from the constant movement.

"Sir, I count three separating from the main group and following us! I think we have about 10 seconds until they're within range!"

Church nodded, looking around the stack of metal to watch the trio slowly making their way through the support girders and oxygen tanks that made up the area. Three was less than he'd been hoping for, but more than he'd been expecting too.

After mentally calculating the distance for himself Church ducked back behind the barrier, quietly counting down the seconds. Just as he reached zero Church spun back out of cover, handgun raised and pointed.

One pull of the trigger, and a 9 millimeter armor-penetrating round plunged into one of the tanks, releasing a condensed stream of pure oxygen. Another bullet, this one from Ana, hit the ground beneath the stream, sparks from the impact flying up and igniting it. The torrent of white-hot flame engulfed the trio of Organization soldiers, roasting them inside their armor.

Ana turned away from the staggering flaming bodies, grabbing her ears trying to block out their shrieks of anguish, before Church took hold of an arm and roughly jerked her back to facing them. His voice was as hard as steel as he spoke to her, his eyes never leaving the sight. "This is our job Ana; this is what we have to do sometimes. Don't turn from it, but never enjoy it either. Just accept it."

Ana stared at the burning bodies as they slowly fell down to the ground, before turning to look at Church. Whatever she planned on saying died on her lips however, as with a shout she grabbed hold of Church and pulling him hard to the side. An instant later a massive armored figure landed in the spot they'd been occupying.

Ana and Church stared in shock as the 7' figure slowly rose from its crouching position, matte black armor casting no reflection of the red haze surrounding them. A large black helmet turned toward the two, a metallic growl echoing from within. It held in it's claw-like hands a thick metal bar nearly as long as the being was tall. On each end of the staff was an oblong shaped piece of metal thicker than the rest.

Ana looked at the creature of metal fearfully. She hadn't signed on for this kind of shit! "W-what the hell is that?"

Church never took his eyes off the being, even as he subtly put himself between it and Ana. "I think it's…Copperhead."

As if this was some sort of signal Copperhead activated the weapon in his hands. The ends of the staff sparked to life, blindingly-bright electrical sparks danced over the surface of the ends, filing the air with their snaps and hisses. With a metallic screech Copperhead dashed forward at the two agents, twirling the electric staff into a blur of sparking death.

Church pushed Ana out of the way of a strike, grunting as it impacted against his left shoulder. Staggering back he kicked Copperhead in the chest, a metallic clang being the only discernable result. The Bat roared and swung again, catching Church in the side of the head. Church screamed in agony, falling to the ground and clutching at his head.

Snarling, Copperhead raised the staff up and advanced, before a tackle-lunge by Ana sent him to the ground. Ana pressed her gun against the stunned Bat's chest-plate and unloaded her entire clip into it. In response Copperhead grabbed her by the throat and threw her off of him. With a gasp of pain she collided with an oxygen tank, sliding down to the ground limply.

Copperhead climbed back to his feet and looked to where the electrostaff had fallen, only to see it wasn't there anymore. A rage-filled cry from his right caught his attention and made him turn, just in time for Church to slam an end of the staff into his face. It discharged into his helmet, frying the electrical equipment and sending pain coursing through Copperhead.

Shrieking in pain, Copperhead staggered back, clawing at his dented helmet. With a battle-cry Church drove the staff forward again, catching Copperhead in the side and sending him stumbling back more.

"Yeah, not so tough without your fancy stick, are ya, you bastard!" Church charged forward again, until with a growl Copperhead drove his armored fist against the Husky's chest. A sickening crunch sounded throughout the area, Church screaming in agony as his sternum was broken into pieces. Copperhead punched with his other fist, and Church staggered to the ground, blood pouring down his face from his mouth, his lower jaw fractured and nearly hanging off.

Copperhead looked down at the gagging, broken form of Church on the ground before him, before lazily turning to see Ana struggling back to her feet. Their eyes locked; Ana stood trembling for a moment, before screaming and trying to make a break for it. Before she made it three feet though Copperhead was there, backhanding the terrified Dog to the floor. Ana flipped onto her hands and feet, feebly trying to crawl away from the advancing monstrosity.

"Please…oh God, no! No, please! Stay back! Please, I'm begging you!"

Copperhead tilted his head curiously; his right hand reached up and drew his Katana. He swung it menacingly at the begging Ana, making her scream pitifully and try to crawl away faster. He merely shook his head and stomped on her left ankle, crushing it. Ana screamed out, as Copperhead ground the ankle under his heel.

"You're a **weak**, **pathetic** excuse for an agent! You're not fit to die by my blade. Go on, crawl away like the worm you are! **GO!!**"

Copperhead removed his foot from Ana's crushed ankle, snorting once at her quivering form before turning to leave. As he did so he caught movement out of the corner of his eye; whirling he stabbed forward, impaling Church through the stomach and to the oxygen tank behind him. Church gasped in pain, blood spraying from his open mouth onto Copperhead's helmet. And then, to the Organization warrior's complete shock, as the oxygen stored within the pierced tank streamed out around them, Church weakly smiled and held up a Zippo lighter.

"Copperhead? Fuck your blade." Church flicked the lighter on; almost instantly the two were engulfed in a roiling inferno, their screams echoing throughout the mill. Ana watched weakly from her position on the floor, horrified. A feeling of anguish bubbled up within her, until she could contain it no longer.

"CHUUUUUURCH!!!"

* * *

Punch for punch, strike for strike, they were identical. After dozens of missions, hundreds of hours of sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than the closest of lovers. They were complementary parts of the same warrior.

With every exchange of blows, every swipe, every parry, every thrust, Fisk gave ground. He had to. He knew that to strike Jason, his cousin, his **comrade**, down, would mean to burn his heart to ash.

Jason had turned into a whirling dervish of destruction, his twin wrist-blades giving him a killing power Fisk couldn't match. And so he didn't. Sweeps were leapt over, stabs were parried, slashes were met with slashes, and always Fisk gave ground. His responses never faster than Jason's, but always just fast enough. The door to the control room was smashed open, and Fisk backed into the room, Jason all the while hammering blows down on him. Consoles flashed and sparked as they were slashed and stabbed, the resulting flames desperation attacks on the fighters.

Fisk flipped back and over a table; Jason jumped onto it for better leverage, until with a low sweep Fisk slashed the table's legs out from under it, depositing the table and Jason to the floor. Jason got back up far faster than Fisk would have liked and sped forward, throwing wild haymakers at Fisk. He parried each one, grunting as the sheer force behind each blow made even blocking them hurt.

Breaking off from the exchange Fisk ran through a door into what looked like the breakroom, a sink, several microwaves, and a coffee machine along the far wall and several fold-out tables running through the center. He grabbed a random plate from the nearest table and hurled it at Jason like a discus. Jason smashed the projectile away, before charging forward and engaging his cousin in close-combat, each blow like a hammer strike as he forced Fisk once more into the defensive. Fisk meanwhile felt his breath grow heavy, his limbs becoming sluggish as the constant blocking took its toll on them.

"_This can't be allowed to go on...I'll die from exhaustion at this rate!"_

Suddenly switching to the offensive, Fisk reared back to avoid a sweep that would have taken his head off, before smashing onto his hands and bringing both if his feet into Jason's chin. Jason's head snapped back, and for a second Fisk thought that he'd killed his cousin, until he suddenly found himself lying on his back on the floor and Jason glowering down at him.

"_He drew my attention away from his follow-up attack by making my attack look worse than it was!"_

Fisk's attention was suddenly brought back to reality by a furious roar, and he rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a downward stab from both of Jason's wristblades. Springing to his feet he spun around, picking up a fold-out chair with his free hand and hurling it at Jason.

Disdainfully Jason smashed the desperation attack away, glaring daggers at Fisk before charging forward and colliding with Fisk, smashing him against the wall. Fisk gasped in pain, his sword falling from loosened fingers.

Jason backed up and charged forward again, smashing Fisk through the dented wall and back out into the mill. Jason followed close behind, lips peeled back in a seemingly-permanent scowl. "Don't make me kill you Fisk." His wristblades shined a blood-red in the light of the furnaces, before retracting back into his armor. "You can't beat me."

Fisk drew his combat knife from his belt, holding it in a reverse grip as he looked back at Jason regretfully. "I've heard you say that before. I never thought I'd hear you say it like that though. Didn't I ever tell you not to say something if it isn't true?"

A roar and a frenzied backhand sent Fisk stumbling back against a support girder. He looked up in time to see Jason flying at him, body-slamming him against the girder. Jason grabbed both of Fisk's wrists with impossible strength and wrenched them to the sides, away from Fisk's body. "I am so sick of you telling me what to do!"

Fisk grunted, feeling the bones of his forearms beginning to bend, to feather towards the greenstick fractures that would come just before the final breaks.

_"This…this isn't good."_

* * *

Angela came to a panting stop, unable to push her body any further in her condition. She leaned onto a metal divider, shoulders shuddering as sobs wracked her body. In one direction the man she loved more than any other was fighting the man she respected more than any other, while in the other direction her closest friends were fighting for their lives against a monster of a man. The very man that her love had betrayed them all for…

"Angela."

Angela's head snapped up as she heard her name said. Back the way she had come stood Asura, mask off and held to the side as she cautiously approached the Bat. Angela grit her teeth, snarling slightly at the sight. This woman, this **bitch**, she was to blame! She had caused Jason to change! She ruined everything!

"Listen Angela, Jason just wan-"

"I'll kill you!"

Angela lunged toward Asura, taking the young woman by surprise. She smashed her fist into the Cat's face, sending her staggering back. Keeping up the pressure Angela continued to hammer blows down on her, screaming as she sought to relieve the burning rage that consumed her.

Time seemed to slow down to Angela. Everything else faded away until all that she could focus on were her fists, Asura's increasingly-battered face, and this need to kill. Asura's soft, pained pleas for her to stop only made her go faster, punch harder.

It ended as soon as it began. One final strike and something gave way with a crunch. A spray of red spurted onto Angela's face, dribbling down her slender neck and onto her soiled shirt. She stared down into glazed eyes; her hard pants the only sound coming from the two women. She'd never noticed how young Asura had been. She couldn't have been any older than 18…

Angela slowly climbed off the still body and turned away, unable to look at it anymore. She reached up and tried to wipe away the sticky liquid covering her face, only for it to smear onto more of it. With a shudder she fell to her knees, looking back at the body. How did everything come to this?

* * *

Fisk's forearms inched closer to breaking. His eyes were clenched as he tried to break free from Jason's steel grip. In his mind he tried to think of anything he could do, anything he could possibly say to end this. Opening his eyes he looked around wildly, his eyes falling on a nearby console to his left, where a handheld plasma torch had been left sitting.

Fisk strained, struggling to reach out to the device. Jason's grip tightened on his arms, making Fisk cry out as the Ulna bone in his left forearm, the one held by Jason's robotic arm, broke in half under the pressure. Clenching his eyes shut, Fisk shut away the stabbing pain, straining ever more to reach his only hope. The tips of his fingers brushed the handle. A bit further and he suddenly gripped the cutter tight in his hand. With a furious roar he ignited it and twisted his wrist, burying the blazing head into Jason's forearm.

Instantly Jason jerked and let go, staggering back as he swatted at the flames rapidly spreading over his right arm. Fisk fell to his knees, panting as he held his now-useless left arm to his chest. He quickly looked up at Jason, to see the Cat standing still, glaring at him. The sleeve covering his right arm had burned away from the intense heat of the plasma cutter, revealing to Fisk not burnt and bleeding flesh as he had expected, but scorched metal and ceramic.

"What the…"

Jason's scowl turned into a smirk at the confusion in Fisk's voice. He raised his mechanical arm, rotating this way and that while frowning at the damage done. "A gift from Akira, to replace the one taken by White. I doubt he would've made it if he'd known what I would use it for…"

Shaking his head Fisk climbed back to his feet, throwing the torch to the ground as he looked at his cousin sadly. "You never did know how to properly thank people for their gifts. You never seem to appreciate what you **have**."

"No, **you** don't appreciate all you have!" Jason began to pace along the metal railing, his red eyes flashing at Fisk. "Do you know what it's like to go to sleep at night, and wonder if someone will come into your room and try to smother you as you sleep? Do you know the pain of loneliness; to watch other kids play, and laugh, while you sit alone; to watch mothers in the park pick up a child who's fallen, and wish your own mother would once hold you the same way? Have you ever, once in your entire life, had your trust, your happiness, and your dignity taken from you by three kidnappers who decided they wanted to have some fun with their hostage?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO HAVE NOTHING?!"

Fisk stood in place, at a loss for words as the man before him broke down. He was broken from this state though when with an enraged scream Jason charged at him. Ducking down to avoid a swiping elbow Fisk lunged forward and up, smashing his right fist into Jason's jaw. Spinning he followed up with a palm to Jason's side, knocking him back and over the railing, to land on the main floor of the factory with a loud crash.

Fisk jumped over the railing, landing on his feet with a grunt before quickly jumping back up and over a leg sweep. Jason snarled and turned his crouch into a handstand, spinning in place to smash his legs into Fisk while he was still in the air from his jump. With a surprised yelp Fisk tumbled through the air, before smashing into the side of a furnace and losing all the air in his lungs from the force.

Jason flipped back to his feet and immediately charged at the stunned Cat, not even bothering to use his wristblades. Coming to his senses Fisk just had enough presence of mind to raise his knee into the charging Jason's gut, eliciting a sharp cry of pain. Fisk followed with a hammerstrike to Jason's back, sending him down to his hands and knees. One more strike, and Jason's limbs gave out, causing him to fall completely to the floor.

Fisk panted hard and clutched once more at his left forearm, staggering back and away from his cousin. The hot air, heavy with the heat of the furnaces and the awful sting of metal, burned at his lungs as it went into his lungs, sending him into a pained coughing fit. Looking over to the slowly rising Jason, Fisk could tell he was feeling just as bad. This thought made Fisk feel just a bit better about his chances. Just a bit.

"Jason, this….this can't continue. Stop now!"

Jason finally found his footing again, his eyes looking up and boring into Fisk's, the rage that had been in them a moment ago replaced by despair. "I…I can't. Not after everything I've done. You just…someone like you could never understand. All your life, you've had a loving mother, a loving sister. Friends, girlfriends, lovers; I haven't. I have experienced how cruel, unforgiving, and monstrous the world really is; how monstrous **people** really are. White has too. White has plans to **make** it work right. **Force** things to be how they should be. Your kids, my kids, the world's kids will grow up in a better world once we're through. All of White's other crap, his self-power rants, his overpowering egotism; it can all go to hell for all I care. As long as the madness ends…"

Jason stopped speaking. His eyes turned to look into Fisk's, and in that instant, Fisk gained a deeper understanding. This was beyond just him and Jason. This was more than the Black family, more than the Company, more than White and Asura and all of the Organization. This was the latest stage in an ages-old conflict of ideals, and now it was Fisk's turn to lead the charge.

He breathed in, and then out. "Jason…what you say is true. I can't begin to understand your life; or White's. But what I can understand is what you, Jason, want. You want peace, security, **happiness**. For yourself and for those you love. But you can't just throw away all the relationships, all the people who have come to love you, just because of one man's promises! What kind of world will those you spoke of grow up in? One where they live in constant fear of White deciding that they don't fit in **his** plan?! Who are you, to decide how others live? Who are you, to decide who is in control?!"

Jason's gaze flickered, as Fisk saw sudden doubt appear in him. He resumed his fighting stance, knowing his next words would decide everything. "It all comes down to a choice Jason. Which do you love more, everything you've lost, or everyone you've gained?"

Jason looked back up at him, and Fisk knew the choice had been made a long time ago.

* * *

Outside, the rain fell upon the smoking remains of a dozen police vehicles, ranging from motorcycles, to cars, to even one SWAT van. The pounding rain and screeching wind drowned out the pained cries, as White strode away from the remnants of the police force that had arrived.

White turned to them a final time and raised his left arm; a matte grey cannon, larger than the one carried by his daughter when she had obtained his body, was attached to his mechanical limb. A flash of lightning, a crack like thunder, and White watched the miniature mushroom cloud envelop his enemies.

Nodding in satisfaction the Cougar turned and dashed off, past the armored vehicle and into the steel mill itself. He raised his arm cannon and fired, blasting apart machinery left and right. He'd wasted too much time, played too long with the police fools. He planned on finishing things **now**, before they dragged on any longer!

The sound of gunfire caught his attention, and he dashed over to a stairwell, shooting up it to the overhanging crosswalks. From there he strode along, scanning the ground floor until he spotted four of his soldiers engaged in a firefight with targets Tobs, Shiro, Rodriguez, and Daverra, who all remained on the first level. White slid to a stop out of sight of the agents behind a tanker and radioed the soldier in charge. "Why are they still alive? Where is Copperhead?"

"Copperhead is dead sir; target Church sacrificed his life to take him and three of my men down. After that target Rodriguez confiscated their weaponry and gave it to the rest of them."

White turned off the headset to observe their enemy more closely. Daverra was the least-injured, with merely a wound on his shoulder as he directed the others. Tobs was barely doing anything, half his face covered by blood-soaked bandages. Next to him, Shiro was barely doing better, his quivering hands tightly gripping a handgun like he'd never used one before. The woman Rodriguez had a snarl on her face, her eyes tear-streaked as she fired the heavy machine gun she'd claimed for herself. Oddly enough, White noticed, she also had Copperhead's electrostaff by her side.

White lifted his cannon and prepared to blow the agents to pieces when a ringing clang of something heavy falling to the floor behind him caught his attention. Turning he saw Jason, whose red eyes were constantly shifting between him, the soldiers, and the agents.

"Ah, Jason, what a pleasure it is to see you again so soon. I must say, you look quite damaged. Fisk gave you plenty of trouble I assume?"

Jason looked down at himself. His clothing, already black, was burnt even blacker in several places, and with the entire right sleeve completely burnt off to reveal his mechanical arm. His dented, broken chest plate had been removed, along with the tattered remains of his white coat. Jason frowned and looked back up at White, who suddenly and inexplicably flinched. Ignoring this he turned his back to the Cat and looked down on the agents again. "Where, might I inquire, is my daughter Asura?"

Jason strode over and took the spot beside White, his hands gripping the railing tightly as he looked down as well. "I don't know. She ran off after Angela when Fisk and I confronted each other." He frowned. "I see Angela has not joined the fight…"

"No, she hasn't. But your cousin has." Below them, Fisk had ambushed the soldiers from behind, and was currently massacring them. At the same moment Jason grabbed White's neck with his robotic arm and extended the wristblade from his organic arm, pressing the deadly blade to the small of White's back. White sighed and turned his head to look at him. "Well, this is interesting."

"Shut up." Jason pressed the point of his blade against White's back to emphasize the command. Looking briefly down at the others he saw Leo and Akira help Ryan over to where Fisk stood among the dead soldiers, while Ana limped behind on some sort of staff. Jason looked back up and slowly pulled his captive slightly back from the edge, to decrease the chances of either of them going over it. "Now, contact your people. Have them get to work on something to help Constantine. Or else I'll kill you before Fisk and the others even get a chance to question you."

As Jason spoke White seemed totally relaxed in the position he was in, as if he was completely unafraid of receiving any harm. Once Jason finished speaking he began. "Once more you do yourself credit Jason, by demanding what **you** want first. It makes me wish I had been there for you sooner."

White scanned the area, noting with pleasure that the agent fools had noticed the two of them up there. Once more he spoke. "I cannot blame you really, for choosing your friends. Afterall, your family was never there." White turned his head just a bit, to where he could look Jason in the eye. "Perhaps…you'd like to know a secret?"

Jason sneered. "And what kind of secret could a monster like you share with me?"

White smiled victoriously and began, projecting his voice so that all could hear him. "Well, the secret starts with a story. Years ago, an unhappy young woman, stuck in an unfulfilling marriage with a cold but wealthy businessman, went on a solitary vacation. She traveled across the world, visiting all the places she had always wanted to. One of these visits was to Japan, to take part in the World Kendo Championship. She made it to the semifinals before losing to a Cougar prodigy of…roughly 16. In the process however, she became hopelessly infatuated with him."

White paused for a moment, savoring the silence that had descended on those below like a dark mantle. Jason stayed silent, his blade wavering as he took a solitary step away from the Cougar.

Finally White started back up. "For the next several days the young woman became close to the champion, and vice-versa. She felt for him something she had never felt for her husband. And so finally, the night before she was to leave Japan, the two consummated their affair. Nine months later, after the woman had reluctantly returned to the States and settled into her unfortunate role of trophy-wife, she had a child. A single boy. A single boy who had not received enough oxygen for his eyes to properly develop."

"No. Oh God no…"

Jason took several more steps back, as White turned around to face him fully. "The married name of that woman was Velona King. Her **maiden** name however, the one she took once her husband had finally passed away, was Velona **Black**."

Stunned silence reigned. Jason staggered back, as if physically struck. He shook his head wildly, all the world disappearing to him except for White and the awful truth eating away at him. "No…it's not true…IT'S A LIE!"

"It is true, Jason." White stepped forward and placed his right hand, his flesh hand, comfortingly on Jason's shoulder. "I am your Father."

Jason snarled and slapped the hand on his shoulder away, staggering back until his back came into contact with the handrail on the other side of the walkway. "No…no…NEVER!" He brought his blade back up, waving it threateningly at White.

"Don't be a fool, Jason! Work with me, your brother, and your sister, and we will fashion the world to **our** liking! This is your last chance!" White stepped forward, his steps echoing like thunderclaps to Jason. "If you will not join your **family**, you will be destroyed."

Jason felt his chest contract, his breath coming fast and shallow as he tried to handle everything at once. Tears leaked from his eyes as they moved from White to those below. He saw their faces move, but couldn't seem to grasp what they were saying. Were they yelling at him? Yelling for him? He couldn't tell, everything was blurring, nothing made sense anymore…

"I…I…" Jason retracted the blade, his arms falling limply to the side. "I could never call such a monster…father."

White's eyes narrowed imperceptibly, as with a flick of the wrist his arm cannon hummed to life. "If that is your decision…so be it." White aimed his cannon and blew apart the nearest stairwell to them. He then pointed at Jason, and two of his finger-blades shot out and embedded themselves in Jason's kneecaps.

"AAAAAUUGH!!!" Jason screamed in agony, until a crushing fist to his gut knocked all the wind from his lungs. Another blow to the chin snapped his head back, a tooth flying loose as he leaned dangerously far over the railing. The blows continued to rain down on his body, battering Jason around as he struggled just to breath. His mouth hung open in a silent scream as bones were bruised, broken, and dislocated.

As quick as the beating began it stopped. Jason's arms hung to the sides, the organic limb broken, and the mechanical limb ripped off at the elbow. A weak croak escaped from Jason as White grabbed hold of his throat and held him in place. With cold calm White held the barrel of his arm cannon against the side of Jason's head.

"Goodbye, my son." A flash of lightning, a crack of thunder, and Jason V. Black knew no more.

* * *

A/N: dang that's a big chapter!


	21. The End is the Beginning is the

Disclaimer: Jay Naylor is the writer, artist, and sole owner of Better Days, Original Days, and all affiliated characters.

Original Days 2

Chapter 20: The End is the Beginning is the…

* * *

"_Love hurts. Friendships never last. Never trust others as much as they trust you. The catastrophic events of three days prior have cemented these rules within me. Ever since that day, everything has changed. Church, dead; Asura, dead; the other leaders of the company, all dead. I don't know how those that survived did it, but we did._

_After White's revealing of his status as Jason's father, he nearly killed Jason. Over half of Jason's bones were broken or dislocated. Second and third degree burns mar a fifth of him. I barely made it in time to knock White away, keeping Jason's head from being blown off. I cannot say the same for his lower jaw however; Akira is making an artificial replacement, but Jason's voice will never be the same. Nor can I say the same thing for Jason's back. The force of the shot blasted him through the railing where he fell twenty feet to the ground. The doctors say that even if he wakes up, he may never walk again. What is known for certain, however, is that he will never work for the company again. So says Ryan, and I doubt there are any agents who would want to work with him anyway. I know that I don't._

_Angela has been hit the worst by this. In the last three days there hasn't been a moment I haven't seen tear marks on her cheeks. She spends most of the time spent in her room. I don't know what she does in there, and I can't imagine what she's going through._

_Leo's been hit hard too, though he's been handling it differently. Jason was his idol. I can't imagine how hard it hit him when the news of Jason's betrayals got out. However, I doubt he's any worse off than Ana._

_Of all the people affected by those events, I worry for Ana the most. She was close to Church, and owes her life to his sacrifice. I believe that in her mind, Jason is responsible for Church's death. A part of me can't help but agree._

_The effects on the company have been quick to arise. In the absence of the other directors, Ryan has declared an emergency state and taken over many of the duties and responsibilities once held by his now-deceased peers. He has also formed some form of alliance with Akira and his company; supplies and Intel for continued security. I don't know what to make of it, to be honest._

_Finally, in light of recent events, Ryan has disbanded my team, and put us back on the active agent roster. In light of White's return, I can't understand the lessened need for a team dedicated to finding his technology, but Ryan is the boss, so I will go along with it. This is Fisk Black; father, brother, cousin, agent, and killer, signing off."_

Fisk pressed stop on the recorder, took the cassette out, and secured it in a silvery-metallic case with the rest of his recordings. He slowly pushed his chair out from the desk and stood up, flinching a bit as he banged his left arm against the desk. After making sure the cast was all right he grabbed the case, his jacket, and his luggage, before making his way to the door of his hotel room. It had been too long since he had gotten to see his family, and Fisk didn't want to miss his plane.

* * *

Ana looked down on the body bag. Small, hot tears slowly leaked from the Dog's eyes and stained her cheeks, but she payed them no mind. A stab of pain came from her left ankle, signaling to her that she was either putting too much strain on the cast or needed another dose of her pain medication. She payed this no mind either, her attention focused solely on the burnt body of the Husky who'd saved her life.

It wasn't fair, she thought to herself, that a man as brave and loyal as Church died, while that traitorous bastard son of a traitor lived. The thought of the injustice in this sent hateful shivers down her spine, making her grip on her crutch tighten. She vowed to herself that she would never let something like this happen again if it was within her power to stop it. Never again would she be so weak as to require saving. If she stayed as she was, then her friend's death would be in vain, and she could not, **would** not let that happen.

She ran a hand over the sealed body bag once, before turning and hobbling out of the room. Nothing would get done if she spent all day looking at a dead body, afterall.

* * *

Freezing cold eyes stared blankly into polished glass. A monster stared back.

"How did everything come to this?" White ran a gloved hand across his face, feeling the contours and flex of the artificial skin along with the natural skin. He stared despondently for a moment more before turning with a sigh to look over the rest of his room, the pure white walls and harsh artificial lighting giving the impression of a frozen wasteland.

From near the closed door, Dr. Amedeo watched him closely, dark grey heavy coat contrasting like an ugly stain against the whiteness of the room's walls. Hearing White's question his crimson eyes narrowed, as he spoke up in his harsh, slithering tones. "Vhat are you referring to, Vhite? Has not everything gone as ve have planned?"

White thought over the doctor's words, before shaking his head and turning back away to look once more in the mirror. "That is not what is causing this feeling of loss and uncertainty within me. I fear I was…unprepared, to gun down my son. It leaves a foul taste in my mouth."

A wheezing sigh came from behind him, followed by the sound of metal striking the ground in a simulacrum of walking. White felt a large, skeletal hand rest on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look at Amedeo as the ancient Cat began to speak.

"Vhite, ve have known each other for a very long time. Ever since you vere a young boy I have taught you, trained you, helped you. First, as your mentor vithin the company vhen you vere a child; after that, as you vorked for the U.S. government and began to lay the foundation for this very organization. And finally, vatching over your children as they strove to fulfill your dreams."

White stared blankly at him, listening and wondering where all this was going. "Yes, I know of all this. You have been my oldest and most treasured comrade. I would never be where I currently am were it not for you."

"Exactly…" Amedeo turned White away from the mirror, guiding the Cougar along as he began making his way to the exit. "And through all this time I have taught you many things. The most important of which is to never regret your actions. People, places, relationships, they all come and go. They enter into your life and then leave it just as suddenly. The only constant in your life, Vhite, vill be yourself. Because of this, you are the only one you must be concerned with."

Amedeo opened the door and walked through, turning to look at White over his shoulder as he continued. "Jason made his choice, and you took the appropriate course of action. Concern yourself no more with it or him."

* * *

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Within the cold, wet confines of her room's shower, Angela lay huddled into a ball. Hot tears streamed down her face, lost in the freezing cold torrent from the shower head, having long lost its heat. Her naked form shuddered with grief, her hands clutched around a small silver cross as over and over she repeated those two words aloud.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

Beyond the shower curtain, beside the sink, laid a small piece of plastic. On this was a small pink plus sign.

* * *

The doors slid closed behind Leo with a swoosh, ruffling his loose white shirt. The tan-furred fox looked around the sterile-white room for a moment, before walking over to a hospital bed situated along the far-right corner of the room. Hospital machines beeped and whirred incessantly, the only sign that the broken Cat on the bed was alive.

"Jason…"

Leo looked down at him, barely resisting the urge to reach down and touch the silvery-grey plating where the Cat's damaged mouth was. Instead he merely sat down and kept watch, passing the time by continuously disassembling and reassembling his M9 pistols.

* * *

Ryan stared blankly ahead, his gaze never wavering as he strode through the pure-white hallway to his destination. He wore a snow-white business suit and coat, perfectly matching the white bandages hiding the upper-right half of his head, including his right eye and ear, from sight. His steps echoed harshly down the corridor, giving those ahead of him plenty of time to become not ahead of him.

He reached the end of the hall and entered into a lab just as electricity discharged from the ceiling-mounted revitalization machine down into the still body of Asura on the table below it. The blinding light of the electricity burned away at the shadows of the room, leaving its occupants in stark contrast with their surroundings.

"Forgive me if I kept the three of you waiting."

From his position beside Dr. Amedeo at the controls to the device, Mr. White turned and looked over at Ryan, before standing up and walking over to him. "No need for forgiveness my friend. In all honesty I was not expecting you to be able to make it at all in this weather. If you do not mind my asking, how is the eye?"

Ryan's hand moved up, briefly brushing over the bandages before returning to his side. "Completely gone; just my luck for one of your soldiers to have such good aim. It doesn't matter though; all of our goals have been accomplished."

"Yes, they have been." White took over the conversation, even as the two turned and began walking over to the body of Asura. "You have sole control of the company now, while remaining beyond suspicion; in that regard I suppose losing an eye helps. My wayward son has been broken both physically and mentally, rendering him a complete non-threat to current and future endeavors. And finally, the Organization shall not interfere with the Company, as long as the Company does not interfere with the Organization, along with mutual aid between the two goups. Those results are satisfactory, are they not?"

Ryan nodded, thinking back over all this. It had been roughly two months after their first encounter with the Organization when he had been approached by Deva. The terrorist had made an offer to Ryan, a mutually-beneficial deal. Things had moved slowly at first; some shared Intel here, some unknowingly-provided assistance there. It had in fact actually been Ryan himself who had revealed the final resting place of White's body to Deva, allowing Asura to go collect it. After that, things began to move quicker; now **he**, Ryan, was in control of the Company, and had even secured agreements to insure its continued existence.

As Ryan thought over recent events a frown marred his face. "So it is true then? Jason Black **is** your son."

Before White could respond another voice spoke up, mechanical and grating as the speaker stepped from beside Amedeo and joined the conversation. "As coincidental and unforeseen as it is, yes, Jason is my brother. Although, if it was up to me I would not have it so that I could in any way be associated with that fool, or his friends."

Maroon eyes flashed dangerously, as thin skin and fur pulled up into a mockery of a smile. The black and purple wig had long been discarded, along with the loose, casual clothing he'd been wearing almost nonstop since the plan had been put in motion. The artificial skin remained in place, leaving the mechanized Cat in his "normal" form. The form used when he needed to make public appearances. The form that Jason, Fisk, and the rest from the Company had grown to know.

Akira Shiro, Deva, moved forward to Ryan and White, his face still in the form of a smile. "It was sadly easy to gain their assistance; it merely required acting the part of a target, an asset which they would desire to preserve. It was even easier to gain their trust; the portrayal of a young, naïve idealist served that purpose nicely. And now, what to do with sad, pathetic Jason…"

Ryan couldn't help the shiver that ran through him as he listened to the terrorist speak, and tried to put on a confident smile. "Yes, well, I don't really care what will happen to him. We are in control, our plans continue on schedule, and most importantly…"

White turned from the two, briefly looking at his once-more living daughter before switching to a shuttered window beyond her. He slowly strode over to the armored screen that was as wide as he was tall. Ryan and Deva quickly went to his sides, joined a moment later by Asura and Amedeo. White flipped a switch beneath the shutters, causing them to slide to the sides, allowing the group to look out onto the Atlantic Ocean from the massive base situated along the side of Antarctica.

The sudden light did nothing to hinder their ability to see the armada before them. Dozens, hundreds of corvettes, destroyers, frigates, carriers, and super-carriers filled the frigid Antarctic water. Above them soared countless fighters and combat choppers, practicing combat maneuvers and filling the air with thunderous booms and pounding blades. Along the ice beach to either side, tens of thousands of troops practiced continuous assault drills. White looked out over this force and once more continued on for Ryan.

"And most importantly, there is no one who can interfere."

**THE END**

* * *

Ending Credits

Song: Separate Ways (Worlds apart), by Journey

* * *

Characters

Fisk Black: Christian Bale

Jason V. Black: Dante Basco

Angela Faunt: Grey Delisle

Mr. White: Hugo Weaving

Copperhead:????

Ryan Tobs: Mathew Fox

Dr. Claudandus Amedeo: Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Akira Shiro: Jason Marsden/Deva: John DiMaggio

Derek Church: Burnie Burns

Ana Lucia Rodriguez: Michelle Rodriguez

Leonardo "Leo" Daverra: Greg Cipes

Hinata Shiro/Asura: Nika Futterman

Elizabeth Black: Nicole Sullivan

Lucy Erikson: Christy Carlson Romano

Tom Erikson: Danny Cooksey

Mr. Faunt: John Mahoney

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**THIS WINTER, THE TRILOGY COMES TO A CLOSE…**

**ORIGINAL DAYS 3**


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